#would that not confused the GA who just watched them suck face in the hospital reception in 7.06

[daisysmalia]

Why are people so insistent on claiming Tim was lying when he says the ‘no Buck was actually into Tommy?’

Like he says it here;

And someone on twitter tried to tell me this was him still saying Buck was confused? Like I’m sorry but if you watch the ep objectively it’s all about Tommy. Buck wants to hang out with him, he felt he clicked with him, he wants to see him. I understand you can have your own interpretation but please don’t try say that the creator has a different one than what he intended. Eddie was the misdirect, the twist was ‘oh I guess it was you.’ And Buck and the audience had that realisation at the same time.

[nick-thecreator]

Aftermath Revival: Human AU Part 3

(This is a flashback btw, there will be a lot of flashback chapters since Salvatore is explaining himself. Also, even though this is a full flashback, Sal is telling the story in a way that won't get the shit beaten out of him [Even though he doesn't really need to change it cause it was technically all Mother Miranda] and so it'll be shorter. He ain't sitting there, telling a half a year long story)

WARNING! Death; Blood; Child Death

Part 2 is right HERE

Part 1 is right HERE

The year was 1974, right in the middle of winter, and Salvatore had returned to the village after being sent out by his uncle for some medical/surgical training at a hospital nearby. A car ride after getting off of the train, and he was dog tired, but he had to get to his uncle first. He carried his bags to his house, unlocking the door, and placed his bags inside, before quickly shutting the door, dashing over to the clinic. He opened the door to the clinic, looking around to see if his uncle was around. Nobody was in there at the time, and a note had been left on top of his desk. He picked it up, putting on his reading glasses so he could read his uncle’s handwriting.

    It read, ‘Hey Sal, I had to meet up with Miranda for an important meeting, so sorry for not being there. Remember to see your father and family sometime today. Also, go to the church at 7pm today, okay? She wants to talk to you. 

Regards, Uncle Florin

    Ps. Remember what we’ve discussed before, about your “future position”, it’ll apply today.’

    He dropped the paper in shock. He had known this day would come, but never now. Maybe he wasn’t as prepared as he thought he was. He placed his hand on his mouth, feeling some vomit come up his throat. He swallowed it back down, then tried to calm himself down with some deep breaths. He sighed, picking up the piece of paper. He folded it up, placing it into his pocket. He looked around the clinic again, going over to a shelf near the desk. He reached up to the tallest shelf and grabbed a briefcase. Pulling it down, he realized how heavy the contents really were. He placed the briefcase onto the desk, opening it. Inside was one of Miranda’s “bibles”, a med-kit, a bottle of what he assumed was rubbing alcohol, based on the smell, and a pastor uniform. He pulled out the uniform. It still had the blood stain from when he was 17 and had to work as a pastor for 6 months, having to work with animals a lot. 

He looked at his watch. 6:35pm. Dammit. The train had gotten to the station incredibly late, and the man who had driven him had stopped for gas and a weirdly long bathroom trip. The church was around a 20 minute walk away. He gulped, looking out the window as he placed the uniform down. The clinic was a ways away from the rest of the village, but he could still hear the activity of the village through the trees and gardens in between them. He stood away from the window, removing his clothes to put on the uniform. He considered washing himself off first, but he just settled with some of the herbs in his uncle’s drawer as cologne. He threw on his uniform, straightening it out so he’d look less like he had been traveling for around 4 hours. He put back on his fur-lined coat to keep warm, putting the rest of his clothes into an empty box, placing the box on his desk’s chair. He closed the briefcase, picking it up before locking up and leaving the clinic.

While walking there, he had to pass through the town. He was stopped a few times by different villagers, asking him how the hospital experience had been, or just what the hospital was like. Many of them had never even left the village before, nevermind going to a full fledged hospital. He kindly answered their questions with his regular doctor-esc demeanor. Sometimes he was stopped for a bit longer than just a couple questions, but he would quickly get back on track. The longest he had stopped was for a group of kids who ran by, with a few recognizing him. They asked where he had been, and what the hospital was like. He tried to keep going, but they had surrounded him before he could. It took their parents, who were slightly behind them, to pull them away so he could keep going. Before he was fully out of the village, he ran into a few more kids from the group, including a small girl with a bride doll. She was only a bit bigger than the doll, but seemed determined to bring it with her. They made eye contact, him waving at her.

“You need help with that?” He asked.

“No thank you mister,” She replied, putting the doll over her shoulder before walking off with the rest of the group, seeming to, on purposely, stay behind the group a little. He just smiled at her before resuming his walk.

 After a bit more walking, he finally reached the church. Looking down at his watch, it read ‘7:02’. Dammit. He formed his excuse in his head as knocked on the front door. Before he could land the last knock, the door was opened by Miranda. He smiled at her, before seeing her deadpan expression. Behind her stood one of her maids, a large case in her hands. 

“Hello Mother Mi-”

“What took you so long?” She asked, interrupting him.

“The train was late, the driver had to stop, and the villagers-”

“Nevermind. You’re here. That’s what matters. Come in.” She stood to the side as he stepped into the church. He looked around the room, noticing that, besides him, Miranda, and the maid, the room was empty of people.

“Hey, where is everyone-”

“That doesn’t matter. Follow me.” She gestured to him and the maid to follow her, walking over to one of the hallways. He quickly followed, the maid walking beside him. While walking, she turned down another hallway that went downstairs. He had been in the church before, almost all over it, except underneath the church. He had almost gone down there once, but he was dragged out by Miranda and brought back to his dad, who later scolded him. He hesitated at the top of the stairs, the maid stopping beside him.

“Doctor, are you okay?” The maid asked. Miranda heard her, turning around to face him.

“Come on Moreau, don’t waste my time,” She commanded sternly. He jumped a bit at her tone, quickly walking down the stairs and following her. She turned on her heels and continued to walk down the hallway to an operating room. Outside of the room stood Florin. When he saw Salvatore, he smiled at his nephew.

“Hey Sal, how was the hospital?” He asked, leaning on the wall.

“It went well-”

“That doesn’t matter now. Ready?” Miranda asked Florin. He rolled his eyes at her interruption.

“Yeah yeah, you have the case Sal?” Salvatore nodded, holding up the briefcase. “Everything still in it?” Salvatore nodded again. “Alright, we’re ready.”

“Good, the patient is in here. Do you need him?” She gestured to Florin.

“No, I should be good.”

“Alright, come in when you’re ready.” She opened the door, closing it on him before he could step in. His uncle placed a hand on his shoulder before he could open the door again.

“Sal?”

“Yeah?”

“You know what you’re getting into?”

“Well, we’ve gone over it plenty of times, so, I’d assume so.”

“No, are you SURE SURE? No assumptions here, you know that.” Salvatore was surprised by his uncle’s tone. He had never been so upfront before.

“Yeah, what’s with the talk? You’ve been preparing me for my whole life, I can handle it-” Florin pulled Salvatore in for a hug.

“Good luck kid…” Salvatore hugged him back, kind of confused.

“Thanks man.” He heard a sniffle from his uncle. “What’s wrong-”

“You should know. We’ve talked about this. After this-” He pulled away from Salvatore, leaving his hand on his shoulder, a few tears in his eyes. “-I won’t be needed.” It finally clicked in his head. He had been told something similar in the past, but he had never considered the worst.

“What? Wait, why!?” He asked, now confused and upset.

“That doesn’t matter now, you’ll find out later.” Florin smiled. “I love you Sal. Never forget that.” He patted his shoulder, gesturing to the briefcase. “It’s in your hands now. Good luck.” Salvatore was about to cry, wanting to stop everything before it even began. However, he knew how important this day was. The day he would take on a village tradition. So he sucked it up, wiped away the tears he had, and nodded, assuring that he was ready. Florin nodded back, smiling.

“Thanks Uncle Florin.” He smiled before opening the door, stepping in. He looked around the operating room. It was faintly lit, a large table in the middle of the room with the patient placed on it. Small tables were around the larger one, tools laid out neatly on them. He looked up to Miranda, who was standing on the other side of the table. She had changed attire in the time that he was talking to Florin. Beside her was a small table with a jar on top of it. The jar contained some black thing floating in a somewhat dirty liquid. That must have been that “Cadou”, labeled as such.

“Come closer, we have work to start,” She stated. He walked a bit closer, his eyes looking down to the patient. His eyes went wide when he saw the patient. They seemed to be a girl in their early teens, sedated by an IV that was running a bluish tinted fluid into her arm.

“Um… Mother-”

“No questions now. We must start before the effects wear off-”

“Who is this?” He asked. She grabbed a journal, holding it so she could read it.

“This is Bernadette. She is 13 years old, and-”

“I was never told that I’d be working on a child,” He interrupted. She looked up, clearly irritated.

“You were told that you’d have to work with villagers. Ages were never specified.” She looked back down at the book. “We will be placing the Cadou in the-”

“Why are we testing on a CHILD?” He asked, in semi-shock. “This is unethical-”

“IT DOESN’T FUCKING MATTER HOW OLD SHE IS!” She screeched at him, her face going red. He jumped back in shock, before trying to stand his ground again.

“Still. Why a child? Out of anyone?” She clenched the journal.

“So-” She harshly closed the book. “You don’t want to do this then?”

“Not on a child, no. I was told that we would be using adults only, never kids.”

“And why do you give a shit?”

“You know that people have died in these surgeries before. Why would someone want to risk a child’s life like this? And the child of a leading family for fucks sake! And even if she did live, she could become a lycan! Or worse, if there even is worse…” She sighed, walking around the table, getting up in Salvatore’s face.

“You think you have a choice in this?” She asked firmly, using her powers to wrap a mold vine around his neck. “Because you don’t.” He lifted him up a bit, lifting herself up to stand above him. The vine choked him slightly, but not enough to cut off enough air to make him pass out. “YOU work for ME, and will do as I say.” She got closer to his face. “Your cooperation can save you a lot of hardship, but a lack of such will because only more heartache on your end, and trust me, you’ll be alive to experience EVERY. FUCKING. SECOND of it.” She basically spat those words at him as he stared up at her in fear. “So, have you changed your mind?” He quickly nodded, in fear for his life. “Good.” She dropped him back on the floor, him almost falling over from the force of the fall. She lowered herself down slowly, going back to the other side of the table. “If an outburst like that happens again, I won’t be as forgiving. So, for now, just this once, let’s put this under the rug.” He nodded again. “Anyway-” She picked up the journal again. “We will be placing the Cadou in the chest cavity, near the heart. She has already been undressed and cleaned for surgery. Ready to begin.” She looked back up at him, glaring at him.

    “Um- Yes… yes,” He replied, looking down at Bernadette.

    “Alright then, there are some gloves, a mask, and a sterile uniform over there.” She pointed over to a chair in the corner, a surgeon’s uniform, neatly folded on the seat. He went over to it, picking up the uniform. He looked back over to her as she pointed to a side room. He just went in, putting on the uniform, and stepped out, placing his pastor uniform and the briefcase on the corner seat. He walked back over to the operating table, putting on the gloves and mask that were placed on one of the smaller tables. His neck started to feel like it was burning, but he didn’t want to make her even more mad, so he didn’t complain. He moved the light over the patient so he could see what he was doing better. She was naked for the most part, besides a towel covering up her lower half. He was used to working on women, so the sight of breasts didn’t bother him. She had dotted lines across her chest, marking where to cut. Miranda placed a diagram of what to do on a stand next to her so it faced Salvatore. She then tested to see if she would awaken from pain. She did this by using one of her mold vines to smack her across the face. She then used a pointed vine to stab her in the shoulder. Bernadette didn’t even flinch, being in such a deep sleep. Miranda looked back up at Salvatore. “Well, Doctor, begin.” Salvatore gulped, picking up a scalpel, trying to get into the motions as he held the scalpel shakily. The scalpel slowly stopped shaking, being absolutely still before moving close to her chest. Miranda watched over his shoulder, some vines reaching around the table, ready to hand him tools when he needed them.

    The surgery lasted around 5 hours, mainly because it went from the insertion of the Cadou, to trying to save her from it. It was eating at her body, so they rushed to remove it before it could do any major damage. However, it had already taken a toll before they could fully remove it, as it had clung to her heart and started to eat at it. Salvatore had to remove her heart to even attempt to remove the Cadou, so Miranda tried to replace it with some mold. Unfortunately, the mold replica didn’t work, so Bernadette eventually died of blood loss. Once they knew she was beyond saving and brain-dead, they stood over her body, Miranda being disappointed in the turnout. Salvatore, however, was incredibly distraught. He could feel tears forming in his eyes as he looked back up at Miranda. She looked up at him as well.

    “Don’t blame yourself, the Cadou has different reactions to different people. You did well this time. Just keep it to yourself next time,” She told him, walking away from the table to the sink, removing her gloves and washing her hands. He just stood there in silence, looking down at his own hands. He could even believe what he had just done. Once she was down washing her hands, he went over to the same sink, removing her blood-stained gloves before washing the blood off of his hands and face, since some had spurted during surgery. When washing his face, he could feel a few tears escape from his eyes. He couldn’t tell if it was from what had happened, or from the soap that had accidentally fallen into her eyes. He didn’t feel that water would be enough to get her blood off of his face. Once done, he turned to the chair in the corner, picking up the pastor uniform and the briefcase. He went into the side room as Miranda started to disinfect the tools before disposing of the body.

    He locked the door of the side room before starting to take off the uniform, putting on the pastor uniform. While doing so, he brushed his neck with the fabric, making his neck sting. He looked in the mirror, seeing that some cuts we left on his neck after Miranda’s vine had been around his neck. He opened the briefcase, taking out the med-kit and the rubbing alcohol. He started to apply the rubbing alcohol to his cuts, flinching a bit at the sting. He was able to wrap his neck with a bandage, realizing that the briefcase was less for any patient, and more so for himself. He sighed after doing so, putting the stuff back into the briefcase. He stepped out of the side room, the blood-stained surgeon’s uniform draped over his arm.

    “Um, Mother Miranda?” She turned to him, almost done cleaning the large table, Bernadette nowhere to be seen.

    “Yes?”

    “Where should I put this?” He gestured to the clothes on his arm.

    “You can just put them on that table there.” She pointed to one of the smaller tables next to the larger one, the tools having been put away. He placed them on the smaller table, then headed to the door. “Oh, Doctor?”

    “Yes Mother?” He asked, just wanting to leave the church at this point.

    “Will you inform the Beneviento family at some point this week of her death. Just say that she was killed by a bear, and that her body couldn’t have been retrieved.” His eyes went wide a bit. He had heard his uncle use the same excuse when it came to other deaths in the village. It was both nice and unnerving to find out what the true reason was. It did make sense, considering how deep in the woods the village was and the abundance of ways to get lost and die out here. He just nodded as he opened the door, quickly stepping out of the room. He quickly walked down the hallways, stepping out of the church before sliding down the closed door, starting to cry. He loathed the idea of having to tell a family that their child had died, nevermind having to lie about the cause. He hadn’t seen his uncle either, knowing the worst, but not being able to fully face it after what had happened. He put his face in his hands, feeling tears stream down his face...

[outerbonks]

complicated [2] - jj maybank

here’s part two! please enjoy and tell me if i should keep it going!

summary: you’re a kook and JJ doesn’t like you at all. That’s what he wants everybody to believe anyway.

word count:+2k

warning(s): sad shit, mentions of abuse, swearing

taglist (open):  @danicarosaline​, @yeehaw87​, @sspidermanss​

PART ONE

It'd been a few days since the party at the boneyard and you were meeting up with the pogues soon as per JJ's request.

You’d hung out with them before but something felt off about this time, Kie had been texting you all morning making extra sure that you were coming.

She was never usually this concerned about if you'd be coming or not, it was usually just one message about a half hour before you were supposed to meet but today your phone was buzzing non-stop.

Kie 🌺✨: So ur coming today right?

You: ofc 💞 meeting at John B's place right?

Kie 🌺✨: Yes but wear something cute 👀

You: okayyyyy

You: why tho? 👀

Kie 🌺✨: For the group pics obviously 👀

You: sounds fake but ok bby 😌✨ I'll dress cute... only for you tho 😉

Kie 🌺✨: that's why you're my girl 😘 

Kie 🌺✨: okay I've gtg do some stuff but I love you

You: love you too 💞

Kie 🌺✨: John B's at 1pm

You: I've got it, see you then

She was definitely up to something, you could tell, she never cared how you dressed especially not when all you were doing was meeting up with her friends.

Deciding not to worry about it, you threw your phone onto your bed and started to get ready.

Settling on your favourite white crop top, the one with a daisy embroidered in the middle you pulled it on along with a pair of denim shorts and your white converse, that had become dirty from the amount of wear and tear they'd been through since you got them.

The posing you were doing in front of your mirror was interrupted by your phone chiming yet again.

JJ Maybank: Hi. 

JJ Maybank: Kie gave me ur number

JJ Maybank: She told me to ask u to bring snacks

You: Sure I'll stop by the store on my way

You: Any preference?

JJ Maybank: Whatever is fine with me princess

You: Alright I'll see what I can do

JJ Maybank: Wait get chips

You: What's the magic word? 🥺

JJ Maybank: Are u really gonna make me do this princess?

You: I mean if you want ur chips 👀

JJ Maybank: Remember when I told you I didn't hate you? I take it back

You: Then starve 😌🥰

JJ Maybank: Fine. Pretty please will you pick up some chips

You: Why of course I will since you asked ever so nicely!! 🧚🌺✨💫💞

JJ Maybank: You suck

Laughing at his response you grabbed your purse and left your house, making your way to the store.

You couldn't lie, you enjoyed messing with JJ. Now that you had his number you had a feeling that the two of you were going to be annoying each other on a whole other level now.

When you arrived at the store you made sure to stock up on snacks, buying extra chips as an attempt to ensure today stays peaceful between you and JJ.

Soon enough you found yourself at John B's front door, knocking on the frame gently.

Kie answered the door with a bright smile, giving you a hug before pulling you inside.

"Did you bring snacks?" Was the first thing you heard as Kie ushered you into the chateau. You let out an airy laugh and held up the plastic bag in your hand for JJ to see, "As promised."

"Great! Both of you go sit down." Kie instructed and you obliged, sitting down on John B's couch and placing the bag of snacks in-between yourself and JJ who immediately started rummaging through the bag, you watched intently as he pulled out a bag of chips with a big smile on his face, "These are my favorite!"

Nodding your head at the boy you looked at him with a mockingly parental look, trying your best to hide the smirk forming on your lips, "That's what happens when you say please, sweetheart."

 JJ scoffed before looking around the room in confusion, "Where'd the others go?"

Neither of you had noticed Kie and John B sneak out the front door and realization washed over the both of you as you heard the engine of John B's van running.

The pair of you scurried out to the porch, watching as the van moved away and Kie stuck her head out the window, "We're going to get beer, we'll probably be a while! You two should talk while we're gone! Bye!" She shouted before John B hit the gas and the van sped off.

Sighing you looked at JJ with an unimpressed expression, "Guess we're talking then."

"Seems like it." The boy muttered crankily, following you into the house.

Spending time with you meant getting to know you and getting to know you would eventually lead to falling for you. JJ couldn't let that happen. But he had no choice, he'd rather talk to you than spend hours in silence waiting for his friends to return.

"Do you wanna play 20 questions?" You asked, breaking the awkward silence that has settled over the both of your once you returned to your seats on the couch.

JJ let out a huff, looking at you with his eyebrow raised, "What are we? Twelve?"

Letting out a scoff you couldn't help but roll your eyes, "You sure do act like it."

"Fine. You ask first." He sighed, sinking into the couch and digging into the chips you'd brought.

"Alright, start off easy… What's your favorite hobby?" The blond boy beside you shook his head and leaned his elbows on his knees, turning his head to look at you, "Surfing. My turn. What did you mean the other night when you asked me what age you were when it all started going wrong?" He fired, the question had been locked and loaded in his mind since the night at the boneyard. 

"It's kind of a bummer, you sure you wanna get into it?" You questioned, catching your lip between your teeth.

The boy only nodded, staring at you expectantly, "Well, when I was thirteen my mom got really sick, she's been in and out of hospitals on the mainland for the past three years, my dads never left her side so I don't see much of either of them anymore. She's in some private hospital on the mainland right now, we're pretty sure she won't be getting out again." You explained numb to the situation, it'd been three years of you pretty much raising yourself, your dad kept up with the bills and put money into your credit card but he hadn't actually been home with you unless your mom was healthy enough to be there too, but she hadn't been home in the last year which meant neither had he.

"Shit…" JJ murmured, looking at you sympathetically to which you shook your head at him and gave him a tight smile. You really didn't want anyone's sympathy.

"It's fine. But I guess to give you an answer to the question, everything started going wrong when I was thirteen." You added on casually as if you hadn't just opened up about your dying mother seconds earlier.

"My turn." You stated, keeping eye contact and asking, "Why don't you want to get close to me?"

His little speech the other night had left an impact on you, you wanted to know what was so bad about you that made befriending you so awful. 

JJ sighed heavily, shrugging his shoulders, "It's complicated, I've got a reputation here on the cut y'know? And you've got yours on figure eight. We just shouldn't mix." 

You didn't bother trying to hide your confused expression, you both knew that that was bullshit.

"Maybe we shouldn't. But since when have you ever gone by the rules of society?" You piqued up.

"Hey it's not your turn anymore, you already asked your question." He butted in, throwing a chip at you.

"Fine, you go but we're getting back to that one." You warned him, making him chuckle in response.

"After you asked me when things started going wrong, you said something else…" JJ threaded carefully, having a sinking feeling that he knew what you meant by the question in the first place but the curiosity was killing him.

You nodded patiently waiting for him to continue, you knew what he was about to ask and you mentally prepared yourself to give him an answer.

"So… why can't you wear dresses to parties?" He finished, his voice gentle but his eyebrow raised.

Swallowing thickly you fidgeted with the hem of your crop top, "Last year at a kook party-" You started, shifting your eyes away from JJ's, focusing on your legs instead, "-One of Rafe Cameron's friend's, he was a senior and I had just finished freshman year, well anyway I was wearing this cute little dress and he told me he really liked it so we started hanging out and the next thing you know he was kissing me and that was all good and fine, it was really great actually." You retold to JJ, pausing for a second to glance at his eyes that were looking at you intently, his bottom lip between his teeth.

Heaving out a heavy sigh you ran a hand through your hair before finishing the story, "But then his hands were all over me and I didn't really know how to feel, yanno? I was a virgin and I'd never had a guy be into me like that so I let him go on. Until he literally tore my dress right off me and I knew then that I definitely wasn't ready for what he wanted. So I told him to stop and he flipped out on me, called me a tease and a slut and told me that if I didn't want to be fucked then I shouldn't have dressed like it. And that is why I can no longer wear dresses to parties." 

You couldn't figure out the look on the boys face, it was an expression that was a mixture between anger and sadness and something else that you couldn’t quite place.

"Who was the guy?" He inquired, his voice dangerously calm.

The story made him angry, he hated when guys thought they could just take advantage of people, he couldn't lie and say that it didn't especially bother him that it had happened to you.

You just shrugged again, "Doesn't matter. Pretty sure he moved to the mainland for college." You explained seemingly unbothered, the same way you had been after answering the last question and JJ wasn't having any of it.

"It does matter though, why do you do that?" He wondered out loud, scooting closer to you on the couch while you avoided eye contact.

"Because JJ, if I start acting like it's a big deal it's going to become a big deal and I don't want a fuss over something that happened to me in the past while other people have bigger things to worry about." The blond beside you nodded in understanding at your statement, he got that, he felt the exact same way and he realized that the pair of you were a lot more alike than he thought.

"Just don't tell Kie or John B okay? I'm only telling you because I let it slip at the boneyard, you're the only one that knows." You whispered, finally meeting his blue eyes.

He nodded with furrowed brows, "Secrets safe with me, princess."

Giving him a tight smile you spoke up again trying to lighten the heavy atmosphere, "If you weren't so stubborn I think you and I would be really great friends."

JJ laughed, taking off his red cap and running his hand through his hair before placing the cap back on his head, "You know what you're probably right-" The boy let out and exaggerated sigh before going on, "Screw it. We're friends now, princess." He stated with so much authority that you had to laugh.

"Wow and all it took was my tragic origin story? If only I’d known sooner." You said sarcastically, shoving his shoulder with your own.

JJ laughed and so did you, it was so strange, if someone had told you a week ago that you'd be playing a way too personal game of 20 questions with JJ Maybank you would've laughed in their face and asked if they were stoned. But it felt oddly comfortable in the moment.

The giggling was hushed by your phone buzzing with a message from Kie.

Kie 🌺✨: We're on our way back 

"They're coming back." You turned your head to face JJ who was smirking mischievously, "Should we fuck with them?" He asked you while scooting closer to you and looking at your phone screen.

"Oh absolutely, here." You agreed handing him your phone watching as he began to text Kie.

You: Take ur time  😉

Kie 🌺✨: What's with the winky face?

You: No reason 👀

Kie 🌺✨: omg Y/n what happened? 😳

"What should we tell her?" JJ snickered and you gasped excitedly, "Oh my God, tell her that we "bonded" but put a bunch of sex emojis after it."

"Brilliant." He commented under his breath as he began typing again.

You: Oh nothing, me and JJ just did some bonding 😌🥵👅🍆💦

Kie 🌺✨: Oh god please tell me you didn't…

Laughing at her response, you snatched the phone back from JJ, leaning close to him so he could still watch the screen and started typing, unable to contain your laughter.

You: Oh yeah, we bonded reeeeeaaaallll good. Right here on John B's couch 😜

"They're gonna be real smug about this working." JJ chimed in and you nodded in agreement.

"True. But I'm kinda glad it did." You confessed almost shyly, not trying to inflate his ego.

To your surprise JJ nodded in agreement, "Yeah you're not so bad after all. But we gotta keep this low-key, I don't want the other guys on The Cut thinking I'm a kook sympathizer." He muttered dramatically with a grin.

"Oh of course not, stays between us and the pogues." You stated with a grin to match his.

The boy reached a closed fist towards you, "Truce?" He offered up hopefully.

"Truce." You told him, bumping your fist to his gently with a smile.

Things had always been complicated between yourself and JJ but you had a feeling that it was only going to get messier from here.

part 3

[huihuiheart]

Goretober D12: No Way Home - Ateez

Ateez + Gender Neutral Reader

Warnings: Serial killer themes, stalker themes, murder, death, suicide, poison, explosion, heights, falling, beating, fights, guns, mauling, gore, blood, drowning, mentions of police and police reports, threats, mention of poison gas, hospitals, mentions of drugging.

Word Count: 5,221

Sitting in the hospital bed all you could do was stare at the copy of the police report they had left with you. Saying they’d return for it it tomorrow, but if you remembered anything to add it to the paper or to tell them. The problem wasn’t remembering, despite your head trauma, the problem was that you couldn’t forget. Looking down at the paper in your hands again, as best you could with one swollen eye anyways you felt sick once again as flashes from the evening filled your mind, and still the people who had found amusement in your torment were no where to be found.

You wanted to run. Hide. Wake up from this nightmare. Anything at all to make it disappear. You had no idea how to live with the events of that evening......

October 11th - 9:17 pm

“Dude that is the sketchiest haunted house invitation I have ever seen.....and that saying a lot, considering it’s literally for a haunted house.” Seonghwa teases Jongho over his little suggestion of activity for the night as your group started to walk up to the abandoned looking building, it looking a rickety four stories high. 

“There’s still three weeks to Halloween bud, we don’t have to do all the scary stuff right away.” You tease the youngest even more lightly pinching his cheek with a small laugh. 

Jongho pouts with a small whine, “Hey! It just seemed like something fun that everyone can do together. You all said you wanted to get out of the house more! If that meant you guys wanted to go clubbing you should have said so!” 

“It’s fine, we’re just messing with you.” Seonghwa assures ruffling his hair, everyone still laughing as we enter. You and Yeosang jumping as a secondary door drops behind the last of you looking almost like the iron gate of a castle. Putting your hand over your heart you let out a breathless laugh at being so easily spooked.

“If you’re gonna be that scared Tiny you can stick with me, I’m a certified human shield.” Yunho slips his arm around your shoulders, he’s chuckling deep in his chest, but a soft concerned look is on his face. 

“I think I’ll be fine. I just don’t expect things sometimes.” You assure him, yet move to take his hand in yours anyways to calm some of his concerns. You may not have been the youngest, but to the boys you were their Tiny. The one they had to protect. 

Looking around one the immediate area of what appeared to be an office hallway was lit up, trying the doors you could see they were all locked. With furrowed brows you and the boys looked around before moving to step into the darkness not knowing where else to go. Only lights flicked on down the path to illuminate the hallway, straight to an elevator who’s doors opened.

“Going up?” I voice echoed through the building sound system, the voice holding a twang to it. The sound nothing southern in nature, but instead almost shrill as if holding back a laugh of some sort. Seeing nowhere else to go and assuming this was just part of the aesthetic of the house you all trudged cautiously to the elevator, squeezing in together. Once the elevator stops you all get off into the room it opens to you before swiftly shutting and dropping down to where it could offer you no way out. The room lighting up to reveal 12 dishes of different fruits. 

You look at Jongho with furrowed brows before you make any move to go examine the food, “Jongho....out of curiosity...what exactly was the theme of this haunted house?”

Jongho pulls out the flyer and offers it to you, “I don’t know Spectacle de something or other...” He shrugs.

Looking over the flyer your eyes widen, “Jongho. It says Spectacle de Mort....that means Show of Death.”

“Show of Death is right! Cause now we’re live, and we’re in for quite the treat with nine of you here. This should give us entertainment for quite some time. You see this is no ordinary haunted house. This place was designed to haunt you, while amusing us and a whole live stream of viewers. Not with little frights though, that amusement passes too easy... No, here you’ll be risking your lives. Simple as that. You all work to complete the activity assigned until your numbers have decreased by at least one person before the next door is unlocked. That is the only way to get out of here.....oh and one more thing. If you don’t do the activity it’ll be much less entertaining for us, but we can kill all of you by flooding any room with a poisonous gas...though it would still me mildly entertaining considering it’s an hallucinogen too.”

Your heart sinks at the voice’s instructions, watching as Jongho pales shoulder’s slumping.

 “I never should have brought us here. It really was a bad idea and a sketchy haunted house flyer and I’m so stupid...” He mumbles before you pull him into your arms, trying to shush him softly, cooing into his ear.

“Shh, shh, Jongho you had no way of knowing. Besides we won’t even know if it’s a hoax or not until until we do something, so let’s just worry about that for now. Okay?” You rub his back gently guiding the way further into the room. Picking up the cue card of instructions to read it.

“One out of the twelve is poisoned. Chose wisely and take a bite, for one is the forbidden fruit.”

You and the boys looked around debating your options. Though if this was legitimate, then at least you each had even odds and no one would have to bear the guilt if something went wrong. Each of you carefully trying to pick a fruit and hoping this was some sick joke instead of reality. Hongjoong picking strawberries, Seonghwa oranges, Yunho kiwis, Yeosang apples, San pineapple, Mingi blueberries, Wooyoung pears, Jongho mangoes, and you picked grapes. Everyone second guessing the whole time until one by one you took a bite and could only wait and hope. A long moment passes and nothing seems to happen as you drift closer to the end where Jongho and Seonghwa stand by the fruits they picked and closer to the door until Jongho starts coughing. It’s only a little at first as his hand comes up to rub at his throat it feeling funny along with his skin heating up. You look at him, eyes widening in shock as you see how pale he starts to look before the coughing suddenly gets harsher to the point of him coughing up blood. Nearly collapsing to the ground before you and Seonghwa catch him and help him sit. You gently rub and pat his back while holding him up and against your chest.

“E-Easy Jongho, just try to breath okay? We got you.” You try to assure him, but when you look up from your spot besides him to make eye contact with San your eyes are glistening with tears. The boys desperately scrambling to find any exit or to get someone’s phone to work to call for help realizing this is in fact legitimate and none of you were safe here, especially Jongho who possibly only had a few moments left. Jongho soon getting weaker as he only weakly sputters out blood and whimpers softly, relying on you to sit up even, before entirely going limp in your arms. Sobs finally breaking loose as you cup his cheek, gently wiping some of the blood off his face.

“C-Come on Jongho you gotta stay awake, we’ll find a way to get you help. J-Just please wake up.” You beg him, even as the door finally clicks open to the next room you don’t want to leave him alone. It’s only when Seonghwa gently takes him from your arms and lays him down that you let the boys take you to the next room hoping to find an exit there.

The next room seeming much more like a lab with all sorts of chemicals and test tubes, the whole area would have just reminded you of Chemistry class and how badly you sucked at that if it hadn’t been for what you just went through. Yunho holding you close and rubbing your back gently, absorbing your cries into his chest as he sniffles a little as well. Hongjoong finding the little card with instructions this time.

“One by one add the chemicals to the one in the center of the room. One of you might be lucky enough to get an explosive reaction.”

“Let Y/N go first.” Hongjoong stops Yeosang from going to grab one and get it over with and the boys all stop to look at him confused, “The chances of picking a safe chemical go down with each one. So Y/N first and then youngest to oldest. Except I’ll go last instead of Hwa.” 

“I-I don’t wanna do it that way. That’s not fair to the rest of you.” You whimper out before Hongjoong pulls you into another hug, gently wiping away your tears.

“It’s alright Y/N. Whatever happens is what happens, it’s not your fault. Now go pick one please and just get it over with.” Hongjoong assures gently before letting go of you, to gently nudge you towards the test tubes. You were kind of hoping that in staring at them something would give away which one would be deadly and just suffer the consequences so that the others wouldn’t have to, but you weren’t so lucky. Finally you chose one and poured it in, waiting and watching for a few moments and yet nothing had happened. It went on for a while until it was just Seonghwa and Hongjoong were left, for the first round anyways. There were more test tubes than there were you all.

“Joong you should go next, really. I’ll take my chances.” Seonghwa insisted, but Hongjoong wasn’t having it as he nudged Seonghwa over gently like he had you earlier. Seonghwa finally giving in as he goes to pick a test tube and pour it in. Waiting a moment nothing seems to happen, until he turns his back to it and it starts to sizzle. Seonghwa’s eyes widen and he quickly turns back towards it trying to cover the explosion with his body to protect the rest of you from it.  San realizing what was going on and pulling you close to shield you behind him too little shards of glass that made it through piercing his back as he keeps you safe. Him glancing over his shoulder to see what damage had been done as the next door clicks open, but not letting you around him to see as he firmly holds you and leads the way through to the next room. The speaker system cackling again, signaling the people who you wanted to curse out are ready to try and communicate with you again in a form other than paper and death.

“Wow! Only two deaths and you already have over 500,000 live viewers. Your quite the popular little group of individuals, aren’t you? Keep it up and we might just let one of you actually survive.” 

The words weren’t what will haunt you though, it was the mocking laughter that rung out afterwards. Echoing through the room, before the sound system cut it off again. You shake your head, eyes burning from tears unable to shed anymore in this moment and you were only two rooms in out of however many they wished to torment you with. Yeosang taking a turn to comfort you while Yunho looked at San’s back trying to help him out. Mingi going to look at the next paper.

“Some locked doors can be opened. Each person pick a door and step through to see what’s waiting on the other side. No cheating.”

Yeosang lets you hug him tightly as you both kind of waddle your way over to where the keys are with the other boys, “Go ahead and pick Y/N. Pick carefully.”

“You too.” You tell Yeosang softly, despite knowing that one person less would be leaving this room than entering no matter how well you all picked your keys. Yeosang kisses your forehead softly, squeezing your hand in comfort with a small smile before picking his while you chose yours. One by one you unlocked your doors all finding a pitch black entranceway. Even the ground was blacked out not providing any sign of what was to come. Until you all stepped through and you heard Yeosang’s scream. Turning towards where he’d been you see him fall in, running over to try and catch him and nearly sliding into the hole yourself if it hadn’t been for Wooyoung catching your leg. 

“Y/N you can’t just throw yourself head first into a hole like that!” Wooyoung scolds pulling you back and into a hug with his kneeling form, softening as he sees fresh tears on your face, feeling some falling from his own. 

“I-I just....I-I thought I could save him.” Your sobs have you shaking against Wooyoung’s chest as he rocks you gently, scooping you up to carry you into the next room.  

“I know, but we just have to try to make sure as many of us stay alive until help can get here. Over 500,000 people are viewing this live, I’m sure someone has called help by this point and they’ll try to help us. Who knows maybe they can save one of the boys.” Wooyoung tries to console you even if he knows himself that it’s false hope.  It served some good in calming you though, you being more hopefully about these things than he naturally was and therefore accepting it for the time being. Wearing through the fresh round of tears and your eyes dried once more, out of them for the time being and wiping your face to take on the next challenge with the boys. Looking around though you found no paper, hoping perhaps you’d been through enough torment to satisfy them. You knew it was too good to be true as the voice came over the speakers again though. 

“So while you’ve been busy entertaining our guests we’ve done some digging on you all......and I must say jealousy is a really nasty look. Especially on you Hongjoong. Not to mention the regretful things it can make you do.” The voice sighs before tsking softly, “Poor poor San....he’s got to let you down like this doesn’t he?”

San looks towards the speaker system in confusion, “What do you mean? He’s jealous of me?”

“Oh he most certainly is and because of that he’s going to have to get rid of you.” The voice chuckles darkly, Hongjoong and San both paling as your eyes widen.

“W-What do you mean? I-I’ll do no such thing.” Hongjoong insists practically screaming at the speaker.

“You will though, unless you want everyone in the room to die.” The voice is serious in it’s threat causing panic to settle in among you all.

“J-Just do it Joong. It’s not worth everyone dying over. It’s simple math...one life or six.” San urges softly despite the tears glistening on his cheeks, willing to do this for everyone else’s sake.

Hongjoong gently hugs the other man before looking around the room, “L-Let me see if there is anything to make it go quicker....b-be a little less painful for you.”

The voice laughs again, “You won’t find anything....you’ll have to do it with your own hands Hongjoong. Hope you still have some of those dark feelings for him, it might just make it go faster.”

Hongjoong feels as if he’s going to be sick, his dam breaking now as streams of tears stain his face, looking at Wooyoung and you for a moment, “Cover Y/N’s eyes.” 

His voice is so quiet like it’s barely there, but Wooyoung hears the words anyways nodding softly and turning away from it himself as he shield your face from the sight against him instead. That doesn’t block the sounds though, the cracks of bones and cries of pain. The sobs coming from all the men around you, but not as pained as the heart wrenching ones coming from Hongjoong while he acts. It dying away, but not soon enough as Yunho moves to cover your ears trying to protect you from that as well. Once it’s over you feel Wooyoung’s hold on you loosen giving you freedom to move. Slowly you walk past them to where San’s battered body lay, unmoving and taking the last pained and shuttering breaths as Hongjoong refused to even look at what he did, instead throwing up in the corner. You gently take San’s hand wanting to stay with him, even as the next door opened.

“Y/N.....we have to go if we can’t get out in time to get him help then he really won’t make it.” Mingi softly places his hand on your shoulder. You nod, but lean down to kiss San’s temple first.

“You’re so brave to do this San, but now you gotta stay strong for us. We’re going to get out and get help as soon as we can for you.” You whisper a promise to him before finally letting go of his hand, gently laying it down to go through the door with the others. Your shoulders slump at the sight of a gun, already knowing whatever the plan for the room was would likely not be pleasant if there was such an obviously placed gun. Yunho getting the little paper and reading it with a sigh before crumpling it up and throwing it as if that’s resolve anything.

“They want us to play fucking Russian roulette. Like normal people would hope to do this for the sake of entertaining others!” Yunho shakes his head as he feels like he’s about to crack again. All of you more than spent at this point with still no exit in clear sight. Not without the risk of at least four more people still dying.  

Wooyoung slipped an arm around you, pulling you close. Worrying about you as usual as Yunho stepped back over to the group, trying to discuss what order you should go in and so on. You didn’t pay that much attention to the conversation though, you didn’t really care what order you went in. Someone else would be dying in a few moments and you felt helpless to it. Part of you almost said fuck it and ripped about of Wooyoung’s arms to go take this one yourself just for the sake of the remaining boys, almost. You knew you probably wouldn’t get far though before they stopped you from what you planned to do. Like you’d rather watch them all die in front of you than save one of them. You were drawn out of your thoughts though when you heard a clicking sound, eyebrows drawing together as you tried your best to wiggle in Wooyoung’s hold and get a look around to see what it was. Another of the same sound following only a moment later.

“Guys, what’s that clicking sound?” You question, but are quickly dismissed by the others who are busy debating why their order is the best option. A debate no one had a right answer considering they were all trying to give themselves the worst chance of survival. 

“Not now Y/N, we’ll deal with that in a minute.” Mingi manages to spare you a glance and it’s only then when you realize who’s voice you hadn’t heard through the whole debate.

“W-Wait guys........w-where’s Hongjoong?” You question eyes widening at a third click sound, stomach dropping as you put two and two together. The others finally breaking from the circle to look into the room. Noticing Hongjoong with the gun to his head right as the bang of a gunshot went off. Not realizing you jumped or screamed at the sight before you, not entirely sure the others registered your reaction either. One that was to be expected when you just saw a friend shoot themselves, blood splattering over the walls. Something you’d see in a museum as a sick form of modern art no doubt, if this had been fake. A reality you would much rather wish for. Four doors clicking open this time as the cackling of the speaker comes on again.

“Hm....I guess the guilt was just too much for Hongjoong. It’s a real shame.” The voice mocks the pain the rest of you are going through, “I’ll give you all a moment to say goodbye to him and to each other now, because you’ll each have to pick a separate door and make your way through a maze. Of course the door at the end will only remain open for three of you. The last person will be left with something....not so friendly.”

Getting to the row of doors you stop the boys before they can start to argue again, “No! No more sacrificing yourselves! Then the rest of us are left to carry that guilt! We all have to agree before we walk through those doors that we’ll all try to make it! Whoever doesn’t.....it was at least fair and we know that. Besides there is a chance they can hide in the maze or something until help gets here.”

Silently the boys nod in a solemn agreement, knowing you had a point and all feeling the burdens of guilt themselves. A tight group hug being held for a moment, knowing it was possibly the last time one of you would be in it, before breaking apart and each walking through one of the doors. After a couple of turns through the weaving maze you stumbled across a glass wall, Yunho appearing after only a moment on the other side. Your smile at the sight of him dropped when you realized you couldn’t make out the words he was trying to speak through the glass. The sounds too muffled through the material, with a sigh he gives up after a moment simply putting a hand on the glass. You doing the same from the other side and giving each other a small smile through tear filled eyes. Until your adrenalin spiked again as a roar sounded through the maze. Looking at Yunho again you managed to make out one word before he turned to leave the glass wall, run. So that’s exactly what you did. You ran through the maze, barely calculating which direction would be a wiser choice as your flight instinct kicked in knowing there was a wild animal somewhere in here with you. Seeing the door out in sight you bolt through it, chest heaving when you reach the other side, looking up to see who called your name to see Wooyoung and Mingi already inside. 

“Yunho!” You yell turning back towards the door as you hear a pained scream before the door suddenly slams shut behind you. You bang your first against it with a curse, before Mingi pulls you away from the door, realizing that the room was moving. Going down in fact. Back to the level you first entered on maybe? No, you’d gone too far down for that now. You were in the basement when the doors opened again. The three of you slipping into the room. Wooyoung finding the little paper this time. 

“The way out will be revealed, but at a cost to you. The door will only be opened if one remains behind as a sacrifice.” 

The three of you look around trying to figure what it meant you wanted to do. Though soon you got a clue as part of the ceiling opened up, starting to flood the room with water. Gasping as icy wet soaks your shoes and works it way up your pants, making you feel much heavier. Eventually determine where the door is, a ladder in the far corner leading up to where an opening above could be. 

“What do we do to get it open then?” Mingi asks climbing up and pushing against it a little, “What kind of sacrifice do they want?” 

You all knew what kind, but you had no idea what they expected you to do, until a red flash came from the opposite corner of the room on the floor. Wooyoung looks at you two with furrowed brows, wondering what it could be. Mingi convincing you to step up a few rungs of the ladder as the water had already managed to get up to the waist at this point. 

“I’ll go check it out and let you all know.” Wooyoung decides before trudging through the rapidly rising water to get there. He has to dive below the surface to see what it is, only to spot a button. He presses it and holds for a moment, not realizing that where you were the door opened until he let go to surface for air.

“What did you do Woo? The door opened and then it closed again.”Mingi inquires looking at the boy who’s shaking out his hair and treading water on the other side of the room.

“I pressed a button for a bit. It must be when unlocks the door.” Wooyoung sees you and Mingi both go to offer and he quickly cuts you off, “Don’t even bother there isn’t time and I can hold my breath longest, I’m the one who’ll be able to hold it long enough for you both. Now get ready.”

You and Mingi both deflate slightly, but listen working up the ladder to wait for the door to open once again. Wooyoung waiting until you were both set to dive again, intending to hold the button for as long as possible, to be sure that both of you had made it. Not that it mattered much, the door immediately closing despite his hold on the button as soon and you and Mingi were through. With a soft sigh you picked up the last paper, like you had the first one. 

“The way things will end will come down to fate. Each choice you make could be your last or it could be the one that finally sets you free. The final door will open when every choice has been made, when only one is left standing.”

Lights were over what looked to be two bins with pull tabs, whatever being inside a mystery. You and Mingi exchanged a look sighing softly before making your choices and each grabbing a lever, not really sure what to expect or why you bothered to even play this game anymore. Even if you made it out alive, for what? Even if help arrived in time for some of them, it would simply be too late for others.

“We pull on three? And no matter what happens we agree to live our lives if we make it out?” Mingi questions, forcing a small smile like it would provide much reassurance at this point.

You give a small nod and return one of your own, “On three.”

1...

2......

3.

Pulling the levers neither of you made it out unscathed, a rolling pin dropping to smack Mingi in the head while a hand held mirror dropped onto you. Your arm coming up to block most of it from your head and face, cutting the skin on your arm while the back of Mingi’s head bled a little. Yet, you both knew it wasn’t enough for whoever was watching as the next two bins lit up. So on you went the next bins weren’t as dangerous of items, the problem us that you looked up wondering what yours was the food can the dropped out hitting you in the face immediately leaving a mark that would only get worse with time, eye swelling slightly. Meanwhile Mingi had a wine glass drop onto him, shattering and raining glass down over him, not helping either of your conditions, but not enough to kill yet. The third row of bins lighting up you both stumbled a little, battered from what you’d already been through, but making it to the next one and pulling the levers once again. Mingi’s loud cry broke out before you could see what happened to him, a rather heavy clock having dropped out and knocking him to the ground. You opening yours and quickly trying to shield your head from the mental pipe that dropped out, it was heavy and beat you a bit as it dropped, but not enough to knock you down. Carefully you go over and help Mingi up and to the next one when he insisted he keep going along with you, pulling again through the tears and swelling of your eye you didn’t see what dropped onto Mingi, only hearing the way the impact knocked the wind out of him in a pained manner while you simply had a grouping of ceramic plates fall onto you. The click of a door opening was enough to let you know how things turned out, trudging your way through shattered remains of the plate with little care and knowing you couldn’t bare to see what Mingi looked like now you made you way through the door. Entrance now in sight, in big flashing red above it the number of viewers your group had gotten the sick bastards who did this to you...... 23, 897,674...

_______________

Looking down at the police report again you shake your head, carefully reaching up to wipe your tears.

Police Report - Event reported 10-12-2020 - Time: 2:47 am

Choi Jongho - Cause of death: Poisoning. Victim stated through ingestion of mangos. Substance: Unknown

Park Seonghwa - Cause of death: Killed by an exploding test tube.

Kang Yeosang - Cause of death: Fell into a empty elevator shaft and onto old support beams. Body not located.

Choi San - Cause of death: Blunt force trauma, beaten by another man according to victim statement. Body not located.

Kim Hongjoong - Cause of death: Suicide, gunshot wound.

Jeong Yunho - Cause of death: Mauled by a wild animal, suspected missing lion. Body not located.

Jung Wooyoung - Cause of death: Drowning. Body not located.

Song Mingi - Cause of death: Blunt force trauma, beaten with objects; rolling pin, wine glass, clock, potentially more we have yet to find.

Y/L/N Y/N - Victim: Traumatized, suffering from major injury, taken to hospital where report was filed.

Assailant: Unknown. Multiple accomplices also in the wind.

You’re about ready to crumple up the paper and toss it aside, but as the doctor comes in again you settle for just setting it onto the wheelie tray they had for food and move it aside.

“Hello Y/N, we’d like to ask you something. Looking over some of your test results we were a little confused by it and wanted to see if you knew anything about it.” The doctor speaks softly and although you were long tired of questions, you nod anyways. Knowing that he was only trying to help and that you’d made Mingi a promise at the end.

“Do you happen to know why there was a hallucinogen in your system?”

[thatshankcallednewt]

The Death Cure: Gally - I’d Forgive You in a Heartbeat; Part Four

In case you missed Part One//Part Two//Part Three… [ tags: @heartache97 @maddeleinegrace ]

“Stop!” one of the WCKD soldiers yelled before you could shoot him down with the others. He dropped his gun and his arms were raised above his head. “I’m on your side!”

   You hesitated, keeping your aim on his chest still. You breathed heavily under the mask. You glanced at the boys who stood at the edge of the pool, just as confused as you were. You ripped your helmet off and tossed it to the side, and a look of relief passed through the boys’ eyes.

  “Y/N!” they yelled in unison, and quickly climbed up the concrete steps towards you, dripping wet.

  You flashed them a smile, “Miss me?”

  The soldier with his arms above his head in surrender slowly removed his helmet, revealing a pair of blue eyes you thought you’d never see again.

  He eyed you a moment, dropping his helmet to the ground. It clattered over the concrete. “Yes,” he said slowly, in response to your question.

  “Gally…?” you breathed; your voice faltered. You held the gun up at him still as he slowly crept forward, his eyes on yours. Panic surged through your muscles at the sight of him alive and well, and you shook your head, thrusting your gun forward, “Stay back!”

  “Y/N,” Newt started, looking between the pair of you. “Y/N, put the gun down.”

  You shook your head. This couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be real. You blinked, gripping the gun in your hands tightly. Did WCKD get tired of tormenting you with Grievers and Cranks so much so that they decided to trick you into a new trial? Have you been asleep this whole time?

  You eyed Newt, who stood closer to you than Gally. Thomas was beside him, and Minho; all three were dripping wet with the water from the pool. “This can’t be real,” you choked out, your hands shook with emotion. “I watched him die…”

  “We all did,” Newt said. He was close to you, but his hands were up in caution. “Look, I bloody thought we were seeing things too but it’s really him, Y/N, this is real.”

  Your eyes met with Gally’s, who still stood opposite to you. You shook your head, breathing harshly through your nose. It just couldn’t be real, but this wasn’t a memory from the maze, and it didn’t have the same hazy glow or quick change in scenery every few minutes. Everything followed each other in a logical sequence. The gun felt heavy in your hands, the air felt cool against your sweaty face. It had to be real.

  “Y/N,” Gally breathed, slowly edging towards you. He didn’t drop his stare as he moved, “Y/N, it’s me.”

  You looked to Minho, who stood drenched in dark shirt and sweatpants, barefoot. His eyes were just as wide, if not wider. He looked to you, blinking in confusion. But he couldn’t give you any reassurance because this was just as much of a shock to him as it was to you. Even more so because he was the one who threw the spear right through Gally’s chest.

  You felt the urge to throw up as nausea bubbled dangerously up your stomach and into your throat. Your grip on the gun faltered but you didn’t drop the thing. All of it was too overwhelming.

  “We found him outside the city, Y/N,” Thomas started, his voice anxious to persuade you. “He’s with the rebels. He wanted to help us find you and Minho, and he did, he got us into the building.”

  You wanted to lower your gun. You wanted to just believe them but every time you went under and lost control of your reality, every time you were inserted into a WCKD trial, you believed it to be real... only to wake up back in your cell again.

  You chewed your lip in thought, “Tell me something only Gally knows,” you said, blinking. You were still staring at Gally, hard, gun pointed but not so much in a threatening way anymore. You wanted it to be true, but you had to hear something that would make it so. Anything.

  Gally blinked and thought carefully. He breathed in and then out, “That day, in the rain, I—”

  “No,” you interrupted, shaking your head, “They watched us in the maze, they know everything… it has to be something after.”

  Gally stared hard at you. He swallowed. “Newt said that you would forgive me in a heartbeat if you ever saw me again…”

  You let out the breath you’d been holding. You remembered back to that night. A night of restlessness in the Scorch. Newt, the only other soul awake, to comfort your sudden spill of tears. You were angry at Gally for doing what he did to Chuck, a boy’s life shouldn’t have been cut short. But you knew it wasn’t his fault completely, that WCKD had control over him and that almost hurt worse; to know that Gally so strongly despised the control WCKD had, only to be used as another pawn in their game at the very end. Of course, if it meant that you could see Gally again, touch him, hold him, just talk to him, of course, you would forgive him.

  You dropped your gun to the ground. You searched his blue eyes, you waited for the change in scenery or a Griever to crash through the courtyard, but nothing changed. Gally didn’t change. This wasn’t another WCKD trial, this was real.

  You ran to him and he pulled you into a hug, his hands desperate to touch you after all this time. He was real. Your hands pressed against his broad shoulders, his chest. You moved them to cup his face. You were smiling but your cheeks were wet. “I can’t believe it’s really you…”

  He was holding your face, too, and he breathed a shaky sigh of relief. He swallowed the sudden emotion that rose to his eyes, and he pressed his lips to your forehead. He peered down at your eyes, “It’s me,” was all he could manage to say without completely breaking down.

  “I hate to be an ass,” Thomas interjected, his eyes darting nervously, “but we’ve got to go.”

  Gally’s hand gripped yours and you both followed the three other boys out of the courtyard and into the heart of the city at a quick pace. The sky was filled with smoke and there were people rushing along the paved streets.

  All five of you fell down behind a wall, exhausted but alive. You sucked in oxygen quickly, chest heaving, but your hand still gripped Gally’s.

  “They weren’t meant to start a damn war…” Gally whispered under his breath as his blue eyes reflected the fiery sky.

  “How much further to the tunnels?” Thomas huffed, filling his lungs with air. He glanced nervously over the wall and down the alley in search for any lingering threat.

  Gally swallowed, “Twelve blocks from here, at least,” he eyed Newt who started hacking up more dangerous coughs, his chest heaving, and his hand covered his mouth.

  You narrowed your eyes and quickly realized the symptoms. You’d seen them before, in the hospital, the rare moments of consciousness as you were wheeled past hospital rooms with patients awaiting serum trials.

  You swallowed your tears and looked away from Newt.

  “We can make it,” Gally continued, looking at Thomas.

  Minho crouched beside you, still damp from the water, his dark hair slicked back. He eyed Gally who was sat beside you, as if he still couldn’t believe he was really there. Thomas left to go talk to Newt about getting the serum from Brenda.

  “You okay?” you asked Minho, searching his dark eyes. You knew all too well how he must be feeling. If he went through the same thing as you did…

  He nodded; his eyes caught yours. He licked his lips nervously, “I just…” he shook his head, not seeming to be capable of finishing his sentence.

  You touched his arm in understanding. WCKD would pay for the hell they put you two through, you were sure of it. If not by the trigger-happy rebels, then by Thomas and the rest of the WCKD survivors.

  “What the hell did they do to you two?” Gally suddenly asked, looking between the pair of you. He had his guesses. Obviously, you pointing a gun at him during your reunion was not quite what he had imagined, but he knew that you wouldn’t come out the same as you were back in the Glade, not after everything you’ve all been through.

  He knew that all too well, after what happened to him.

  You looked away from him, unable to answer straight away.

  “They made us relive the maze…” Minho offered, quietly, evident he didn’t want to divulge in the details.

  “One minute,” you started, suddenly brave, “I’d be sitting with you on the grass, back in the Glade as if nothing had happened. And then the next… I’d be running from Grievers, running for my life.”

  “So, they tortured you? Just for the serum?” he replied, angrily, not so much as asking but telling. He shook his head, his fingers clenched into a fist in his free hand, and he looked back over his shoulder in the general direction of the WCKD building, “Janson that slinthead, I’ll kill him.”

  Thomas lifted Newt up from the ground and they stumbled towards the road. Newt’s feet shuffled along as if not compliant with his brain’s orders. At this pace, no one would make it in time. Explosions still echoed in the background, though growing further away as you continued walking. But the sky was full of smoke and fire, and people were running through the streets like mad men. Every now and then, you had to take cover before a group of rebels or WCKD soldiers, even civilians, would take you out on sight.

  “God,” you breathed, peering around a corner of another alleyway. It was better to travel like this, undetected. “Everyone’s gone crazy…”

  “The Flare is in the city now, so no one’s safe,” Gally commented, scanning the oncoming wave of scattered people for any immediate threats.

  “Did I cause this?” Newt asked, almost limp in Thomas’ arms. His eyes were so dark, they could be hollowed out in his skull. The veins in his ghostly pale skin stuck out like vines on the maze walls, creeping up his arms and neck, bulging at his forehead and around his eyes. “Did I do this?” he was confused and unstable, clearly his reality wasn’t making any sense to him anymore.

  Gally shook his head.

  “Newt, no,” you urged, grabbing a hold of his hands. Your friend, who got you through the bad times and the good times back in the maze, who was a shoulder to cry on after Gally’s “death”, who kept going when no one else would… you felt a sob buried deep down and you looked away from him so it wouldn’t burst out. You didn’t want to confuse him more than he was already. You didn’t want to cry in front of him now, when you had nothing to give that would help him. You took in a breath and forced yourself to look at him once again, “Newt, you didn’t do this. This city was sick already. They tortured kids and forced experiments…” you swallowed the pain from your voice, “They would have ended up like this either way.”

  Newt didn’t really seem to understand but he grunted anyway and Thomas’ grip on him was loosening.

  “We’ve got to run,” Minho suggested, nodding his head. “We can get the serum and bring it back here.”

  Gally seemed dazed; quiet. The emotion in your voice made him feel worse for not getting you out of there earlier. But he was quick to snap out of it, and with a nod of his head, he supported Minho’s decision in getting the serum. He lifted his gun, “I’ll cover you.”

  “What can I do?” you asked, desperate to help your friends.

  Gally gestured for you to follow, “Come—”

  “Stay.” Minho cut in.

  You looked between Gally and Minho at their disagreement. It almost felt like old times. You would’ve laughed if under better circumstances.

  “She’s coming with us—”

  “We don’t need to put anyone else at risk, Gally. I’m the fastest runner we’ve got available. Thomas will need someone here with him.”

  Gally frowned at this, shaking his head. He’d already lost you once by getting separated. He wouldn’t let that happen again, he couldn’t. He went to argue but you stopped him with a hand on his arm. He looked at you. He recognized that look in your eyes.

  “I’ll be alright,” you said, searching his eyes.

  He shook his head, the panic in his heart climbed to his throat, and all he could think about was coming back to find that you were missing. “I can’t leave you—”

  You hopped onto your tippy-toes and urgently pressed your lips to his. He was surprised by the kiss, you felt him tense up, but he was soon comfortable as his shoulders relaxed and his hand touched the side of your face. He kissed you back, forgetting about the others.

  He looked at you as you pulled away, following your lips, clearly longing for more. He stopped himself and twisted his mouth, “I said I was going to kiss you—”

  You shushed him with a finger to his lips, “Come back with the serum and maybe you can.”

  He shook his head, backing away slowly as Minho took off towards the Berg where Brenda would be waiting. “You bet I will,” and with that, he turned to catch up with Minho, his gun at the ready.

  You sat with Newt as you waited for the others to come back. You were trying to hold it together for them, but it would be a close call. Newt looked as if he would close his eyes and slip away at any moment. You grabbed his hand, though cold and clammy against your touch, you squeezed it and he squeezed back.

  “Newt,” you whispered, swallowing the tears before they could spill. “You can do this.”

  “Y/N?” he asked, his eyes almost glazed over. He stared at you for a long while in silence before he continued, “You’re alright…” he sighed, closing his eyes, and dropping his head back. You shook his arm to keep him conscious, and his eyes reopened. “I’m glad we got you out of there.”

  “We’re going to help you, Newt.”

  “Did you find Gally?” he asked, blinking. Thomas was beside him now with a hand on his shoulder.

  You nodded, “I did. Thank you, Newt. You brought him back to me.”

  He smiled a tired smile, “I’m glad…” he started to drift off again.

  “Newt,” Thomas said softly, shaking him awake again, “you’ve got to stay awake. They’ll be back soon with the serum.”

  Newt nodded. He squeezed your hand again, “I’m glad you’ve got Gally, Y/N. He was so worried for you. He never showed it much in the Glade how he cared ‘bout you but it was a bloody lot. He’d frown every time you scraped your knee or got yelled at by another shank Glader. He always bugged me, asking me where you were when he couldn’t find you. Sometimes, he’d be in a mood when I tried talking to him ‘bout building and it was because he was jealous of you noticing other guys…” he laughed, shaking his head, and it brought on another coughing fit.

  He wiped his mouth after he finished, sighing almost drunkenly. He found your eyes, “He couldn’t tell you how he felt because he thought he wasn’t good enough for you or some klunk like that but… he couldn’t see how much you cared about him, too.”

  You nodded, wiping the tears from your eyes, “We were a mess. Both scared and confused,” you let yourself laugh, though all you wanted to do was cry instead. You felt like this would be the last conversation between you, and it scared you to the core.

  He smiled, nodding along with your words. “I want you to know, Y/N…” he murmured, shifting his position.

  You glanced over at Thomas who was watching Newt as he spoke. Thomas’s eyes shifted to yours as he noticed your attention on him, and he bit the inside of his lip. He was holding it together for now, but if Minho didn’t hurry with the serum, he could feel himself cracking.

  “I want you to know that once upon a time, I was good friends with Gally,” Newt continued. His eyes rolled sleepily around in his sockets, eyeing you as he finally spoke again, his voice quiet and his breathing jagged, “He was always a lot to put up with. But when you came to the Glade, Y/N, he started to change. And I knew it was because of you. Even though WCKD got their way at the end… I knew it tore him apart to do what he did.” Newt wiped his mouth after he cleared his throat, “But I know, you’re going to help him again. After all this. You lot will find a place to stay, and you’ll live on, and you’ll forget about WCKD and all the… the shitty things they did to us. And he’ll help you, too.”

  “Newt—” you choked, turning your face away from him. You kept your hand on his, but you couldn’t look at him and breakdown. You wouldn’t let yourself resolve to a crying, sobbing mess as he turned into a Crank.

  “Don’t talk like that, Newt,” Thomas said, suddenly, grabbing the boy by the shoulders. “You’re coming with us. You hear me? You’re not going to die here I won’t let that happen.”

  Newt hugged his knees to his chest and leaned his head against them, groaning at the pain that curled through his muscles and insides. Like a sick animal.

  You let go of his hand and stood up as an explosion echoed too close to your location. You peered around the corner of the alley and scanned the street, but you couldn’t spot anything to be worried about. Your eyes lingered a moment in search of Minho and Gally, but only the odd civilian passed by with worried eyes, out of breath, running from all the chaos.

  A hand clasped around your forearm and yanked you out of the alleyway, throwing you to the asphalt. You were on your hands and knees in the middle of the road, palms skinned and bloodied. You had yelled in surprise at the sudden aggression, and you quickly turned over to see who had thrown you to the ground.

  A WCKD soldier had his gun aimed at you, “Stay on the ground! Put your hands in the air!”

  You shakily raised your hands above your head, while still sitting on the road. You eyed the alleyway but couldn’t see any other soldiers, or Thomas and Newt. You looked back to the soldier.

  “Get to your feet, prisoner. Slowly,” he growled, thrusting his gun toward you as a threat.

  You got to your feet as he ordered, carefully, making sure you were moving slowly. You couldn’t see the guy’s eyes, but you looked at his helmet, nonetheless.

  “Where are the others?” he barked.

  You shook your head, “It’s just me…”

  “Don’t play dumb with me, girl. I know there were others! Where are they!?”

  “They left me behind, alright! I couldn’t keep up with them...” you tried your best to sound confident in your words so your voice wouldn’t falter, so he wouldn’t pick up on your lie. He hesitated as he thought it over.

  “Fine,” he grunted, and then he grabbed your arms, twisting them quickly behind your back so he could restrain your wrists with a pair of handcuffs. He held your arm and shoved you forwards, indicating that you walk towards WCKD while he had his gun pointed into your back.

  You complied and just had to hope that Minho and Gally would get back in time to save Newt.

[rafael-silva]

1.10 tarlos fic: carlos’s point of view during the time tk is in the bus saving the driver until tk rides in the ambulance

just a little tarlos thing I wrote! while watching this scene I was thinking about how carlos was reacting to tk being in the bus and all that followed, so this piece was born. I might follow it up with a tk and carlos at the hospital fic. I hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated!

After telling people to stay away from the gas leak on the road, Carlos turns to catch TK’s back as the younger man rushes back into the overturned bus, the bumper in his grip. He waits, and waits, his attention switching between the civilians around and the bus, where no one exits.

He can see the water hydrant pushing out more water with each passing second, the water level rising in the bus. And he knows whoever is down doesn’t have much time. He finds himself holding his breath, praying to see TK making his way out, with whoever is injured inside. Because he knows TK, and he knows he won’t get out without them.

Carlos knows TK is a firefighter, that he was born to be one. Knows it as clear as people know the sun exists. Even though it might take TK a little while to know that a firefighter is who he is.

Carlos really was confused, he’s never been in this position before. He feels so strongly towards TK even though he doesn’t know him that well yet he can’t help but fall for the young firefighter. Stronger than he’s ever fallen before.

TK got shot. Of course he’s confused, something like that puts everything into perspective, all at once. His entire life is now laid in front of him, and he’s questioning it. And Carlos knows TK is overwhelmed and in no way is he going to push him in any way.

He just hopes he doesn’t end up losing TK.

And TK isn’t coming out.

And then fire harshly sparks, originating from inside and bus and Carlos jumps backwards, his heart dropping into his stomach. The smoke is increasing at an alarming rate, and without protection, the smoke inhalation can hurt TK more than he’s already hurt. This can’t be happening. TK can’t get hurt again. Carlos’s breath hitches.

“Come on, TK…come on,” Carlos whispers, his eyes now glued on the bus.

Nothing.

No one comes out.

Carlos is now holding his breath, and he feels like he’s the one underwater. Everything and everyone around him fades away and it’s just him and the flaming bus.

And slowly, the sound of sirens seep into his ears. And a hand is on his shoulder. He turns to find Owen.

“Carlos?” Owen frowns and then looks around. “What—”

“TK is in there,” Carlos interrupts the Captain, pointing to the bus. And then he starts moving towards it, taking one big step after another. “He’s in the bus,” he repeats, looking at Owen over his shoulder, his eyes filled with worry.

“Hey, hey, Carlos,” Owen catches up with the cop and holds him back with a hand on his arm. “I got him, stay here.” He orders and then jumps into action, rushing past Carlos and into the bus, holding his mask in his hand.

He finds TK slumped over, his head in the water and with a hand on his shoulder, he pulls his son backwards and covers TK’s face with his mask, relieved that he’s okay.

Outside, Carlos is pulled back from the bus by another firefighter, he doesn’t know who because his eyes are trailed on it as he waits to to see the father and son exit. And he waits, and waits. His senses are heightened, his nerves are on fire.

“Deep breaths, TK, deep breathes,” Owen says as he leads TK out of the bus and into the open, his arm wrapped around TK’s waist to support his weight.

Once they’re clear of the bus, TK stumbles forward and gravity pulling him to the ground, Owen helps ease him down so TK is lying on his back. Owen’s hand goes to rest on the side of TK’s face, his face scrunched up in worry.

“Look at me, TK, look at me. You’re okay, just breathe,” Owen says.

A coughing fit hits TK as his hand reaches out for his father’s wrist and holds there. Owen’s other hand goes to cup TK’s cheek and stays there.

TK lets his head fall backwards, coughing and trying to take deep breathes. He’s in pain and he’s trying to suck in as much air as his lungs can handle.

Watching from a few feet away, Carlos still holds his breath, now seeing TK lying on the ground and Owen hovering over him. He still fears something is wrong with TK.

Owen’s eyes roam over TK’s chest and land on the big red strain right over his stitches. Another round of coughs hit TK as Owen looks up, calling over the paramedics.

Carlos doesn’t know what to think, he can’t even move. It brings him back to seeing TK in that hospital bed and how helpless he had felt. A pang in his chest that won’t go away. That feeling was one of the worst feelings Carlos ever experienced, knowing and seeing TK hurt, it broke him. And now, when TK had ran into the bus and didn’t come out until Owen pulled him out, that feeling was coming back.

TK looks to the side and sees the rest of the team pull out the driver and place her on the gurney. With wobbly arms, he manages to push himself off the ground and stumbles as he stands upright. He needs to know. He needs to see for himself.

As soon as TK stands up, and Carlos sees him moving, he closes his eyes, squeezing them as he lets relief wash over him.

“Whoa, whoa,” Owen says, his hands moving to TK’s back to keep him from moving.

“Wait, wait, dad, dad…” TK breathlessly replies, moving towards the gurney to check on the woman.

He takes hold of her arm and she returns the grip. And the relief that TK feels…he can’t begin to describe it.

She’s crying, looking at him.

“You’re going to be okay,” he reassures her, gently rubbing her arm.

He stops moving, watching as she’s loaded into the back of the ambulance and Owen stands next to him.

TK is heaving, trying to catch his breath.

“Go on, you too, son,” Owen says, gesturing to the ambulance with his head.

TK turns and throws his arms around his father. “Thank you,” he pushes out. “Thank you.” TK buries his cheek against Owen’s shoulder.

Now watching TK hug Owen, Carlos can finally breathe again.

Owen returns the hug, thanking the heavens that his son is okay.

“You saved us.”

Owen looks around. “I think everybody saved everybody here today,” he replies. “Go on, get in there,” he tells TK, giving him a gentle nudge towards the ambulance.

Carlos slowly walks up to Owen, watching TK get into the back of the ambulance, Carlos catches the red on TK’s shirt and they make eye contact, TK silently reassuring him that he’s okay.

“He’s an impressive guy,” Carlos tells Owen, regaining his balance.

“He’s my son,” Owen proudly responds.

“Is he going to be okay?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Owen nods. “He just tore a couple of stitches from the look of it.” “And the smoke? There was a lot of smoke,” Carlos points out, concern coating his voice.

“They’ll give him oxygen and make sure he doesn’t have smoke inhalation injuries, it’s going to be fine,” Owen comforts Carlos, giving his shoulder a gentle pat.

“Thank God for that,” Carlos sighs. “He was born to be a firefighter.”

“That he was, that he was,” Owen nods.

“I can head to the hospital and pick TK up after they restitch his wound,” Carlos suggests. “I have the day off.”

“Oh, that would be great, thank you,” Owen gives Carlos a small smile.

“Yeah, no problem,” Carlos nods.

All Carlos wants to do is to hug TK and tell him that everything is going to be okay. And even though Carlos had said if it’s not meant to be, it’s not meant to be, he’s praying he and TK are meant to be.

[state-of-longing]

fix-it hc where reddie saves adrian and don:

total au but what if richie and eddie are already in town at the time of the attack and are driving back from the jade orient and see the attack about to happen on the bridge?

richie comes across them first and beeps because he thinks it’s just a bunch of kids blocking the road after coming home from the carnival

but then he sees adrian getting kicked to the ground and don being held back by these gross hillbilly motherfuckers

at first richie is all, don’t get out of the car man, you need to get the fuck outta derry

but of course he doesn’t do that so he beeps again to get the attackers attention

john garton and co. stop what they’re doing and look over at the red mustang and start yelling at richie to stop being a pussy and get out of the car

richie realises that shit he didn’t think about this plan too well and he’s kinda drunk and hasn’t been in a fight since he was a teenager

then eddie’s car pulls up behind him and he sees him in the rearview mirror looking all confused and he gestures a ‘what the fuck dude?’

then richie looks at adrian coughing on the ground and reaching for his aspirator and he just loses it

he thinks of all the times bowers and co. scared him shitless and bullied eddie right in front of him and he wishes he had done something. anything

he gets out of the car, leaving the engine running and slams the door shut yelling out ‘hey shit stains, leave them alone!’

garton gets off adrian who is wheezing and coughing on the ground. the other guys still have a hold of don who is desperate to get to his boyfriend

eddie who has been trying to figure out why richie has just decided to park in the middle of a bridge, rolls down his window to lean out and ask what’s going on

‘richie, are you having a goddamn stroke? why the fuck did you —’

but he stops when he sees richie get out of the car and slam his door closed and walk out further onto the bridge

worried that the stupid idiot will drunkenly walk into oncoming traffic, eddie also begrudgingly gets out. just to ensure the dickwad doesn’t get hit by a car before they’ve even escaped the clown

richie is face to face with garton and he also notices a kid who spits on the ground near his feet. he’s unfortunately not surprised by how early the hate starts in this town. he’s a little replica of bowers

‘are you their boyfriend too?’

richie freezes and he’s getting flashbacks to being 13 and not knowing why the bowers gang is yelling at him and why they’re calling him a fairy

‘i asked you a question f**’ and garton pushes richie’s shoulder

eddie runs up to them at that point and before he can even think of his personal safety he notices adrian struggling on the floor and fumbling for his aspirator that’s too far away for him to reach

‘holy shit’ he stumbles to the ground and picks up the familiar device and takes in all of the blood on adrian’s face. he shakes the dispenser and hears the comforting rattle

‘here, take a deep breath. it’s okay, you’re going to be okay just breathe.’

adrian grasps at eddie’s hand and takes the puff allowing the medicine to open his tight airways

eddie instantly thinks of richie helping him with his own aspirator when they were teenagers and looks up at the gang now surrounding him

richie looks terrified

‘eds! what the fuck are you doing? get back in the car!’

the two cronies let go of don, noticing this new threat and he immediately runs to adrian’s side

‘i’m helping you numb nuts. you trying to be a martyr or something?’ with richie here with him eddie doesn’t feel as terrified as he know he should

‘what is this? some sort of old queer reunion?’ the kid spits out and blocks eddie in from the side

eddie ignores him and sees a chance for the guy on the ground and his boyfriend to escape

‘make sure he gets another puff of this and get him straight to the hospital. his nose is broken.’ he pulls out the keys to his rental and passes them to don

richie can’t help but smile proudly at eddie and his fucking balls. but he was always better in a crisis, can’t resist giving someone medical advice

‘thank you.’ adrian groans out as he grabs onto don for support

‘just get the hell outta derry.’

don smiles thankfully and they stumble to eddie’s car, the attackers ignoring them now that they have richie and eddie

‘maybe we just give a derry welcome to this one boys’ the kid rounds on eddie who now realises how much danger they might actually be in. the gang turns on him

richie panics and calls out for their attention. ‘look fellas if you wanted us to suck your dicks all you had to do is ask’

eddie eyes richie down with a why are you so stupid look

but it distracts garton and his cronies long enough for richie to pull his arm back and swing a punch at the ringleaders nose

he gets him, blood flying everywhere

richie is in shock that it actually worked. and then he’s groaning as he clutches his hand as the pain radiates up his arm

‘fuck me that hurts’

eddie, who is in awe of the whole thing, watches as garton stumbles back holding his bloody nose, the ratty kid next to him moves to help his friend so eddie trips him over as he’s not looking

the two other numbskulls turn on them

‘run!’

‘eds i just fucking punched that guy’

‘that’s great. now run!!’

eddie bolts for the passenger door of the mustang and richie catches on and scrambles for his keys as the gang closes in on them

‘unlock the car dipshit!’

one hillbilly tries to swing at eddie and he ducks, the guys fist going through the car window. eddie laughs hysterically in both terror and elation

‘holy shit that actually worked!’

richie jumps in the car and yells at eddie to get in before locking the door

‘we’re gonna get you, fucking f**s!’

richie looks over at eddie who is grinning like a madman and nods at him to drive.

‘yipee ki yay motherfuckerrrrrrs!!’ he punches the gas, hollering out the window, eddie flipping them off

garton panics to get out of the way of the speeding car and stumbles backwards over the side of the bridge

the hillbilly cronies all run down to the kenduskeag to save him. pennywise gets a 3-course meal instead

‘that was fucking awesome! did you see their faces? they shit their pants man!’ eddie’s eyes are shining as he looks on proudly at richie

he frowns when he notices richie’s smile has faded and his hands (including the bloody one) are shaking on the wheel. he turns down the music which is blasting a talking heads album

‘rich...hey richie. hey man, you okay?’

richie is pale behind his glasses, and wipes sweat from his brow. ‘who me? sure am eds. never better buddy boy.’

eddie is unconvinced but rather than push him he just says ‘you did good richie.’

richie tries to concentrate on the road and it takes all of his might to not turn the car around and drive straight out of town. he already has eddie in the car. but he can’t get the image of adrian mellon lying on the pavement out of his head

but he doesn’t. he just drives to the town house and he and eddie escape upstairs before the others arrive

‘come with me.’ eddie grabs richie’s arm and drags him into his room

richie would follow him anywhere

eddie digs through his very large toiletries bag and pulls out a first aid kit. ‘your hand needs cleaning.’

‘it’s fine.’

‘bullshit. just let me clean it before you get an infection and it falls off.’

richie knows better than to argue and he flops onto eddie’s bed, his hands are still shaking

eddie picks up the hand, inspects it and then starts cleaning with antiseptic. richie lets out a hiss between his teeth but can’t deny that he’s been wanting to hold eddie’s hand all night. he just didn’t think it would be like this

‘what you did tonight...’

‘it was stupid, i wasn’t thinking...’

‘it was brave. you didn’t have to help them. you know most people in this shithole town wouldn’t.’

richie smiles and is overwhelmed by the sincerity in eddie’s eyes. he quickly looks down at their hands where eddie is now applying some sort of smelly salve

‘this town. it hasn’t changed one bit. it’s...it was terrifying even without the clown...’

‘yeah...i know what you mean...’

eddie pulls out a bandage and wraps it around his knuckles. richie is mesmerised by how methodical he is and how soothing it is just to watch him at work. he should have been a doctor

‘do you think that couple is okay?’

‘i hope so. all thanks to you rich.’

richie knows that tonight was just another moment that will scar their hearts. watching someone you love being hurt like that...it never leaves you. richie blinks back tears as eddie finishes with his hand

but he doesn’t let go, just rubs his thumb along his knuckles

‘did you see he had an aspirator?’ eddie barely whispers out and looks up at him through his eyelashes

‘...yeah’

richie smiles through the tears and squeezes eddie’s hand back

‘yeah I did...and it terrified me’

they soak in each other for just a moment

until the others arrive downstairs

[shimosu]

Loki headcanons

~~~

Since he's a trickster, you don't really see him having a crush on you

But he kept bugging you, you two were friends, and he liked trolling you.

Over half of his activity on social media is literally something to do with you

#with(Reader)

Fun things he's recorded, even without your permission or knowledge

Like when you pushed on a door that was pull, and then Thor opened the door from the other side and you hit your face in the door

It takes him a while to realize he miight have a crush

Aphrodite follows these posts, and does ship it

But at the same time, you're both chaotic. Loki likes murder and mischief, and you keep breaking rules and somehow end up in the middle of everything

You liked to get close to humans to do stuff, like experience skydiving or to look at places of significant interest that would definitely come up in the next Conferences

You got real up close to them, literally mixing in with them and watching them

Then it's time for the Conference and Loki wants to kill people in Thebes, where you just went and were forced to bow down to a statue of Zeus that was closest to Zeus in his prime, but you otherwise snuck a picture and flipped him the bird

Alcides, innocent little almost-adult you met: What are you doing, (Reader)?

You, your hand blurred out: I'm saying hello to Zeus, Alcides

Alcides: Oh, I get it! *sticks up the middle finger to the statue of Zeus* Hello!

You posted it, of course

Loki gets mad at you for associating with the humans and tells you to get your crap together, but it's too fun and he doesn't understand

So one day, you take him skydiving

You're both sitting in a plane and the door opens up

Loki: What are we doing here, (Reader)-chan?

You: Well, we're doing a fun human sport called skydiving. You jump from planes and hope your parachute works.

Loki: We are not doing that.

So you started standing next to the open door and-

You: Oh, no! I don't have a parachute!

Loki: (Reader)-

You: Whoops!

And you fell out the plane, completely intentionally

Go get the reader, Loki, come on

He grabbed a single parachute, stood in front of the open door... And dropped the equipment for you to grab

You: GET DOWN HERE!

Loki: SORRY, I CAN'T HEAR YOUU, THE WIND IS REALLY STRONG!

You: THEN HOW DID YOU HEAR ME AND RESPOND, YOU-

A fun time free falling later, you came back looking grumpy and frazzled

You tried it again, of course

This time though, you made sure to drag down Loki with you, and it worked-

For only a moment, he disappeared from the air

Attempt three, he floats away

You: WHERE IS YOUR ADVENTURE SPIRIT!?

You tried to take him to so much things

He was like a teenage girl that only wanted to be on her phone all day, because that was literally all he did

Rock climbing, he *accidentally* cut your rope and you fell, was "not feeling well" and left you to climb Mount Everest the moment you sealed your fate and got stuck there, and somehow escaped an Escape Room without you noticing

You even brought him back in time to watch the pyramids being made, and to watch the Black Plague, which seemed to be the only things he was interested in

Loki: This isn't a really fun date, (Reader)-chan

You: We aren't on a date, I'm trying to show you that humans are interesting

Loki: We're only doing human activities. Lemme show you fun stuff

He took you to a hospital

"Why... are we here?" you asked him, turning around to see that he was now an old lady with a cane.

"Hush, (Reader)-chan. Get me a wheelchair and be a good grandchild."

"Yes, hag."

You stole one

Only borrowing it, after all

You pushed Loki around, who decided to look like he was murdered or struggling to breathe, wearing a hospital gown

After walking very slowly past some hospital workers, you were now running and fleeing while pushing Loki on the wheelchair

You had a bunch of hospital staff and security running after you, along with some random people who thought Loki was their grandma

Loki played dead

But was enjoying you scrambling away, running around and panicking from crowds of riffraff humans, but still pushing him along

Watching you panic and the high speed chase in a wheelchair was pretty entertaining

You: We could've gone racecar driving! Or highjacked some vehicles!

Security, overhearing crimes: 911!

You: AAAAH-

Loki: Hehe. I thought you like thrill.

You: Shut up, hag!

When you left the building, there was a high-speed chase with police cars following you

You, screaming: GRANDMA GET UP!

Loki, enjoying your struggle: Mm, nah~ I'm still mad at you for associating with humans, (Reader)-chan.

You, crying: SERIOUSLY!?

He stopped when you were being shot at

Sure, bullets wouldn't hurt gods unless they were divine weapons, but still

"Yeah, we're gonna stop this now."

Loki got you two out of that mess real quick. A sharp turn into a dumpster and you two were gone

Really more invisible and hiding though, but humans couldn't tell, they thought they lost you and you left a wheelchair behind

Loki, smacking his lips after the humans left: Yeah, (Reader)-chan, I think I like you.

You, huffing and lying down, thinking he's joking: Don't say that after what you put me through.

Loki: Okay, fine~ You pick an activity. You know you enjoyed it, though

Maybe.

Shut up, Loki.

You took him ziplining from a really tall place, over some forestry

His line snapped and he fell into the mess of green

You: AuAAH!

When you reached the end, you were about to go look for him, and Hermes decided to appear and stop you

"Pardon me," he grabbed your shoulder, "but you're about to miss the Conference."

"Not now, Hermes-"

"Now, please. Your vote is needed."

Loki... should be fine....

Then you got to the Conference and sat down next to Loki- Wait what

The Conference started. Everyone voted for the end. You voted for forgiveness, but Loki messed with your paddle so that it was no on both sides

"HEY!!!"

You waited for it to be over and then found Loki lying on a plush chair. He somehow got ahead of you and left you the moment the Conference was over,

You: I watched you die!

Loki: (Reader)-chan, you watched me fall and disappear. There is a difference.

Ah. Wait a minute, stop using logic-

You: Don't tell me that while you're sucking on a carrot with cucumbers on your eyes.

Loki, taking the carrot out of his mouth and taking off one cucumber slice from his eye to look at you: I like you, (Reader)-chan. I wanna go on another date.

You, confused: It wasn't a date.

Loki: Mhmm. And you thought I was dead. See you for the next date.

Next date, he kidnapped you, regardless of if you were willing or not.

"This is how I get a yes, even if you say no," he said after already bringing you out, putting your seatbelt on. "Safety first, (Reader)-chan."

"Have you ever tried driving?"

"Nope. This is the gas pedal, right?"

"AaaAAAAAHHHHH!"

#onadatewith(Reader)

[transpoettryinghisbest]

Mission Complete 2

(Set three years after the first one. AUTHOR'S NOTE: "Tag" is my name for the main character. It's short for protagonist.)

The air vent fell to the ground with a loud clatter, and Monty gave a frustrated sigh.

“Do you mind?” he declared, not looking up from his comic book.

Carla emerged from behind where the vent had been, hopping down onto the ground after it. “Monty? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Come on, you know me. I've almost finished the map of this place.” It wasn't a physical map, more of a series of memorised routes for getting around the school. She'd had one for every school she'd been to before and this one was no exception. “So…?”

“Well I was trying to read my comic book.”

She peered over his shoulder out of curiosity. “Oh yeah? It any good?”

Monty sighed again and pulled another comic book out of the pocket on the back of his wheelchair and tossed it to Carla, all without looking up. “That's the first in the series. You can borrow it if it'll shut you up.”

But before Carla could offer a word of appreciation, there was a thump as the door slammed open and Carla quickly threw the comic away from her - she'd sooner be found dead than seen reading that nerdy crap.

“Monty!” It was Tag.

“What now? Can everyone just leave me in peac-”

“It's your sister.”

This finally drew his attention. “Penny?”

Tag was accompanied by Buggs, who had Penny slung over his shoulder in a fireman's lift.

“What happened?” Monty demanded.

“I don't know, we were talking and she just collapsed in a bunch of pain. She wouldn't tell me anything, just kept saying 'get Monty, get Monty'.”

Buggs gently laid her down on the table. Her eyes were screwed shut, her teeth gritted and every muscle in her body was tensed as she writhed around slightly making pained noises.

“Penny, if you can hear me, tell me what's wrong.”

“...Monty?”

“I'm right here. Talk to me.”

“Help. It hurts…”

“Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

Monty looked from Tag to Buggs in the hopes of finding any new information that may help him, but Buggs just just threw up his hands.

“Hey, don't look at me, I'm just the delivery boy,” he said. “The kid couldn't exactly carry her himself.” Tag thanked him and he waved his hands dismissively “Nah, no worries.”

“So can you fix her, Monty?” Carla asked.

“I don't even know what's wrong with her! How am I supposed to…”

He cut himself off. He wouldn't let Penny get scared thinking he couldn't help her. Monty would just have to figure it out. Penny was in the foetal position with one arm across her stomach and the other clutching the back of her neck. She wasn't capable of speaking very much, though she could communicate on a very simple level.

“Did it happen gradually or instantly?” Monty asked.

“Instantly,” Tag replied. “Almost. After a few seconds she was just…” He mimed her lying on the ground.

Monty had a suspicion of what it might be, but there was a drawback.

He pulled the others aside so that they were out of Penny's earshot. “I can't operate on her like this, she needs anaesthetic.”

“She needs what?”

“Sleeping gas. She can't be conscious during the operation or else…a number of things could happen.”

“What, you don't have that?” Buggs said. “I thought you were the guy who had everything. Always prepared.”

“I'm not a doctor, I'm a mechanic. I'm not used to working on things that…can move and talk and stuff.”

“Well you can't do nothing!” Carla declared.

“What's going on?” Penny called from across the room. “Monty?”

As he wheeled himself back over to the table, he could hide his worries from her but couldn't disguise the concerned expression on his face.

“We'll have to get a teacher to-”

“No.” Tag was cut off by Monty, who wouldn't even entertain that idea.

Because the teacher would have to send Penny to a hospital where dozens of doctors and surgeons would try to fix the little cyborg girl. Word could be out about her secret to the masses and before they knew it, she'd be known worldwide. 'The freaky robot girl'. She'd never be able to live like that.

And what if the doctors couldn't understand how her body worked? What if their lack of expertise in mechanics just damaged her more as they tried to fix her?

“She's my sister. I can fix her,” Monty said, simply.

None dared to disagree with him.

“Buggs, keep watch at the door,” Monty instructed. “If anyone shows up, get rid of them.”

“Sure, Boss.”

“I guess we'll have to hold her down while you operate?” Tag suggested.

“That won't work, it'll only freak her out more,” Monty replied. “She needs to be properly sedated or the whole process could get messed up.”

Carla sighed. “Look, there's an obvious easy solution to this.”

“Obviously there isn't or I would've realised it by now.”

“Well maybe you're not as smart as you think you are.”

Monty suppressed an angry outburst and instead glared at her. “Fine!” he almost yelled. “If you have a quick fix then use it.”

Penny opened her eyes slightly to see what was going on and saw Carla coming towards her.

“Carla? Why is everyone arguing?”

“It's fine, don't worry. Your brother's just being a pain.”

“But he can fix you. And he will,” Tag clarified.

“Of course I will.”

“So just stay still for a second,” Carla said, taking Penny's head in both hands. “And before you know it, you'll be all fixed up.”

With one swift motion Carla slammed Penny's head into the desk. She didn't make a sound, her eyes simply flickering as she fell unconscious, but Monty and Tag both cried out in surprise.

“Carla what the hell did you do?”

“You needed her unconscious. She's unconscious. You're welcome.”

“You could've given her brain damage!”

“Oh please. She'll be fine.”

“I'll kill you for that!”

“Uh, Monty?” Tag said, cautiously.

“What?”

“We might be against the clock, here. If you need to operate before Penny wakes up, I mean.”

Realisation set in and melted Monty's rage to a mellow annoyance.

“I won't let anyone out so you can still beat her up when you're done with Penny,” Buggs called from the other side of the room, blocking the doorway.

“Charming,” Carla commented. “I'm sticking around anyway. You never know when you're actually going to need me.”

Monty exhaled angrily and without another word, moved back to Penny and inspected her. Once he was assured that her head was fine, he lifted her shirt up to the bottom of her ribs and found the source of the problem, just as he'd suspected. He sucked in air through his teeth in a gesture of uncomfortable sympathy.

“What is it?” Tag asked.

He tried to look, but Monty gestured for him to stay where he was. “You might not want to look.”

“Do you know what's wrong with her?”

“She's had a growth spurt.”

Carla made a confused face. “That's it? She sounded like she was dying!”

“Yeah,” Tag put in. “Growing pains can hurt but not that much.”

“Well your bodies aren't made of metal,” Monty pointed out. “When the biological parts of her grow, the metal parts don't. So they dig into the skin.”

“And that's what caused all of that pain?”

“Yes.”

“Can you fix her?”

“You know I can. I just need…” He reached into the pocket on the back of his wheelchair and brought out a file. “Here we go.”

The next hour or so, Monty spent peeling back parts of Penny's skin and filing the metal plates until they fitted neatly once again. It wasn't the most enjoyable job, but Monty never complained. He'd do anything for his sister.

It was weird to think that it'd been only three years since the last time he'd done something like this. Penny had needed tweaks and updates in the past, but the only real big operation Monty had done on her was when Tag and the twins had begged him to bring her back to life. Her mother had blown her head off to get her out of the way, insisting that she'd fix her later. But 'later' never came as Penny's mother died the same day, and Monty was left in charge of bringing Penny back. Shortly after that, Penny was adopted into Monty's family, and while having an android for a sister was…interesting in more ways than one, Monty had grown to really care about her - more than anyone had seen him care about anyone else. And Penny adored her brother. The one who'd saved her. He knew he could do so again.

A little while later, Penny began to stir as she awakened. She made a mumbling sound, then her eyes flickered open.

“Penny, don't move,” Monty insisted. “I'm not finished and I need you to be very still.”

“Okay,” she mumbled.

Monty called Tag over.

“What, he's your new assistant now?” Carla said. “Have I been downgraded?”

“Yes.”

She rolled her eyes. “I'm heartbroken.”

Monty ignored her. “Kid, can you hold her down? Gently. Just make sure she doesn't move.”

Penny had been rolled over onto one side, so Tag held her in place by her shoulder while Monty continued to work on the panel located on the back of her neck. Penny put up no resistance to any of this - she trusted them and was still dazed from being knocked out.

“Did Carla hit my head into the desk?” she mumbled, eyes shut and trying to stay as still as possible.

“Don't worry about it,” Monty replied, simply. “I'm almost done and then everything will be fine. It'll be over.”

He flipped the panel shut and she gave an inhuman jolt as if struck by a (very small) lightning bolt. Then Monty backed off and let Penny sit up by herself.

“How do you feel?”

“Kind of sore.” She instinctively rubbed the parts of her body that'd been operated on. “But better. Am I all fixed now?”

“For the time being. I may have to do this again in future whenever your next growth spurt is. We'll see.”

“Until then, you'll have to find something that'll knock her out if needed,” Tag said.

“I'll see if Felix has anything semi-legal I can use.”

“Thank you, Monty,” Penny said. “You've saved me again.”

“Don't get all sentimental on me now, it's all in a day's work.”

“Nice,” Carla declared, sarcastically. “Maybe one day he'll admit that he cares about you, Penny. I'm not going to hold my breath.”

She got up and headed towards the door.

“I'm glad things worked out okay,” Buggs clarified. Ever since Penny had left behind her life of being the principle's rat and became one of them, Buggs left his hard feelings for her behind as well. “Let me know if you ever need my help with anything again.”

“And let me know if you need my help,” Carla put in. “So that I can reject you.”

“I'll bear that in mind,” Monty declared.

The bell rang and life resumed back to normal.

[thedailyimagines]

Imagine getting into a relationship with Barbara Gordon.

Anon requested: “Batgirl (Barbara Gordon) x Male Reader, where the reader is the son of joker and is arch enemy of batgirl, but eventually they end up falling in love and they get into a secret relationship due to their allegiances but later they are found out and they’re relationships spread throughout Gotham and swear to each other to protect one another and come public with their relationship.”

.

This work contains swearing and some pretty heavy violence near the end. Also it is long.

When you see the red WARNING, it’s a sign that the violence is about to start. Skip ahead if you need to.

~~~~~~~~

Being the son of the clown prince of crime sucked. He was, to put it extremely lightly, an asshole. So you made it your job to undermine everything he did. Currently, you had your own gang and were getting ready to rob Gotham’s biggest bank.

With a loud crash, you burst through the doors of the bank with your crew, taking out the security guards posted in the room. In moments you had everyone gathered in the middle of the room.

“Alright everybody, listen up! We’re not here to hurt anybody, just to lighten the bank’s vault! So stay still and quiet, and nobody gets hurt!” Leaving two of your men to watch the hostages, you directed the rest to start emptying out the vault. Soon everything was ready to go.

“Oi, the boss said shut up! So either make the kid stop, or I shut them up myself!” You turned to see one of your henchmen, Pete, yelling at a woman and her child. The woman was trying to calm her child down to no avail.

“Pete, dear, could you come here for a minute?” The henchman looked confused, but did as you said. You took him out of sight of the hostages to where the rest of your men were emptying the last of the vault’s contents.

“What’s up boss?” You smiled sweetly at the goon.

“You know how I feel about threatening children.” Pete’s eyes widened, realizing now you had heard his threat.

“W-wait boss, please—!”

BANG. Pete fell over dead, and you put your gun back in it’s holster. Turning to the other men, you addressed them like you hadn’t just shot one of their coworkers.

“Let Pete here be an example. Don’t break my rules.” The henchmen all nodded. You rolled your eyes when they didn’t start moving. “That doesn’t mean you stop working! Grab everything and let’s get moving!”

<—>

How was it you had the worst luck? First you had to find some new henchmen (stupid Pete), then your getaway driver decided to bail—forcing your crew to steal a car—and now you had to find another window repairman. You should get a discount for the amount of times you called.

“You know, if you asked I’d give you a key to the front door. Or the roof. You don’t have to come crashing through every window.” Batgirl raised her fists, prepared to fight you if necessary.

“You’re going to Arkham clown-boy.” You placed one of your hands over your chest, feigning hurt.

“Ouch. Clown-boy. Listen, I can take being called lots of things, but that’s where I draw the line. I don’t think I can be your nemesis anymore. We’re through now.” Batgirl threw a punch but you dodged it.

“This isn’t a joke. Now are you going to come quietly or do I have to knock you out and drag you back?” You shrugged and gave her a smile.

“Oh come on, lighten up a little Batgirl! It’s not like anyone died!”

“Really? What about the goon in the clown mask?”

“Oh yeah. Forgot about him. He threatened to kill a kid cause they were crying. I don’t like people who do that.” She scoffed and threw another punch, this one connecting with your shoulder when you tried to move out of the way.

“Yet you work with your father.” You caught Batgirl’s fist and pulled her closer to you, tapping her on the nose before releasing her hand.

“Correction: I work against him. I’m currently in the process of blowing his current cash flow to pieces. Make it a little harder to buy bombs and other fun stuff.” She backed away from you and frowned.

“So you can what? Own them for yourself?” You shook your head and crossed your arms behind your back.

“Nope. I really don’t care about gang fighting and all that crap. But I’d rather not have a lunatic running the streets, you know?”

“You’re insane.”

“Technically, yes. But you know me Batgirl. When I ever committed mass murder or something like that?” Before she could answer, a knock came from the door leading out of your ‘office’.

“Boss? Is everything alright in there?” Henchmen. Always interrupting the important things. You rolled your eyes and answered.

“Everything is fine. What do you want?” There was a pause, and the goon replied with a nervous voice.

“Joker’s on the phone. Says he needs to have words with you.” Gah. Couldn’t the clown call at a later time? Preferably never?

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll pick it up in here. Go back to doing whatever it was you were doing.” The henchman confirmed this and left. Batgirl waited til the footsteps had gone before she spoke.

“Some secretary.” You raised your hands up in an ‘I guess’ gesture and walked over to the phone on your makeshift desk.

“What can I say? He’s good eye candy. Only for looking though, wouldn’t want to make you jealous.” She scoffed again, and you picked up the phone.

“Doug Dimmadome, owner of the Dimmsdale Dimmadome.” The voice on the other end screeched, causing you to hold the phone away from your ear. When you held it back, it was less loud but still as annoying.

“—And listen here you sarcastic little shit—” You interrupted the Joker before he could speak any more.

“I’m sorry, but it’s ‘Dr. Sarcastic little shit’. I have a doctorate in sarcasm.”

“You ruined everything! I had the perfect plan to drive Gotham mad laid out, and you ruined it!” You tapped your chin and turned towards the window, your back towards Batgirl.

“Oh yeah, I heard about that.” Your voice took on a mocking tone now. “Did the big bad Batman swoop in and disarm your little gas attack?” The Joker snarled and uttered several more expletives.

“When I get my hands on you, you’ll wish you were never born!” You chuckled into the receiver.

“Too late for that. Good talk, go take a walk off of Wayne Tower.” You hung up the phone and turned to face Batgirl once again, only to find she was gone. Huh. Maybe she got bored of waiting for you?

<—>

Finally, a night off. The bar was a little crowded but it was better than a cold warehouse full of people who probably shared one brain cell between all of them.

“Excuse me, is it okay if I sit here? Everywhere else is full.” You glanced up at the red haired woman in front of you and gave her a smile.

“Yeah! Let me just move my bag.” Once the seat was clear, you pushed it out so she could sit down. The redhead did so with a grateful smile.

“Thanks. My feet were killing me. Name’s Barbara by the way, what’s yours?”

“My name’s y/n. Nice to meet you Barbara.” Barbara tilted her head, trying to get a good look at you. For a moment you thought she recognized you from the news, but brushed that thought aside. You looked pretty different when you weren’t covered in face paint and your usual getup.

“Do you come here often? I don’t think I’ve seen your face before.”

“Nah, only when I’m not busy. Unfortunately those moments are few and far between. You?” Barbara waved down a bartender and ordered a drink.

“Usually I meet my dad here, but he’s working late tonight.” You nodded and took a sip of your own drink.

“Sounds nice. My dad would kill me if I suggested we have dinner together.” Or at the very least, put you in the hospital for a couple of months. That was assuming you would actually talk to him.

“Not a nice guy, huh?”

“That’s underestimating it, but yeah.” The two of you talked for a long time, and at the end of the night exchanged phone numbers. You probably wouldn’t call her, but it was nice to imagine.

<—>

“What the hell did you do to her?!?!” You were glaring in pure anger at your goons, all of whom were staring at you with wide eyes and pale faces.

“She snuck in boss! So we shot her—” Your hand shot out and grabbed the closest thug, the one who had shot Batgirl.

“Are you fucking idiots?!?! She works with Batman! We don’t need him breathing down our necks!” You shoved the man to the ground, running a hand through your y/h/c hair.

“Boss—”

“Shut up. I’ll deal with this myself. I swear if any of you do anything stupid while I’m gone, I’ll make the rest of your short lives hell. Is. That. Clear?” Your henchmen nodded, and you walked over to Batgirl. Picking her up bridal style, you carried her to one of the throwaway cars and loaded her into the passenger seat.

You were halfway to the hospital before you realized you couldn’t take her there. They would have to unmask her and that would most likely ruin her and any of her family’s lives. At the very least the GCPD would throw her in a jail cell.

...What was under the mask? Lots of Gotham’s thugs and lowlifes assumed the Batman was a robot or something, but what about Batgirl? You parked the car and looked at the unconscious superheroine. Surely a look couldn’t hurt?

The mask slid off easier than you expected. Your eyes widened as you saw the face of Batgirl—but you had seen her before.

“Barbara?” She groaned and opened her eyes. The first thing Barbara saw was you, your face painted and clothes covered in blood. Then she saw her mask in your hands.

“You bastard!” You raised your hands to stop her from murdering you right there and then.

“Wait Barbara, listen to me!” Barbara froze at the sound of her name.

“How the hell do you know my name?”

“Do I really look that different with face paint on?” Dropping the mask in her lap, you grabbed a towel from the backseat and scrubbed your face with it, until you were sure all the paint was gone. “Now do you recognize me?”

“You! You’re the guy from the bar!” Her surprise turned back to rage. “We’re you just spying on me? Trying to get information about me?”

“No! I didn’t know it was you, I just...I was curious. I wanted to see under your mask.” Barbara put her fist down, wincing at the pain in her side. She almost forgot, she had been shot. Her future really was in y/n’s hands now.

“So what are you going to do now?” You shrugged and drummed your fingers on the steering wheel.

“I’m not turning you in or anything. And you’re still bleeding. Do you have a place where I can drop you off, or...?” Barbara let out a sigh of relief, knowing you wouldn’t blab about her secret identity.

“I can contact Batman and he can pick me up. I just need to be dropped off somewhere.” You nodded and let her make the call, then dropped her off where she directed.

<—>

Five months.

Five months was all it took to start a relationship with Barbara Gordon. It was a rocky start, but it was easy when nobody knew your alter ego.

And it was almost a year after that, the night before your anniversary, when you received a call from the Commissioner that she was in the hospital.

A gunshot wound. The Joker has gone to her apartment and shot her. Tortured her father. All just to get back at the Batman.

You took a trip to the hospital to see Barbara, the sight of her hooked up to machines filling you with rage. When you left you drove straight to Arkham. You still had a few connections there and soon you were waiting in one of the various abandoned sub levels.

The door to the room you were in banged open and two Arkham guards dragged the Joker into the room. They threw him to the ground and looked to you for instructions.

“Leave. Call the Batman if you want. I don’t care. He stays.” The guards looked to one another, then nodded. When they left you turned to face the Joker.

“You know, I never thought you were so stupid. You may be crazy, but stupid was never really on the list. Yet you went after the commissioner’s daughter and the commissioner.”

“So what? It’s not like you had a personal stake in this.” You regarded your father with a cold expression, from his arms being restrained by a straight-jacket and to his face covered with bruises.

“You paralyzed a girl from the waist down, humiliated and tortured her father, and for what?” You grabbed his chin and leaned in close to the green haired madman. “Just so you could have the attention of the one person who you want to break? News flash asshole; He won’t pay attention to you beyond kicking your ass.” The Joker jerked his face away and gave you his signature grin.

“So what now? You drop me in Gotham Harbor? Feed me to Harley’s mongrels? Ooo, I know! Hand me over to some of Arkham’s nastiest to have a little one on one with me!” You turned away and grabbed something from the bag you brought with you.

“You might wanna close your eyes.” The Joker frowned now.

WARNING: VIOLENCE AHEAD

“What? Why—!” With a loud CRACK, the baseball bat you held connected with the side of Joker’s face. Over and over you rained blows down on him, not letting up until the bat finally broke from the stress.

You weren’t done yet. Going back to your bag you pulled out several metal spikes, their points barely sharpened. Ever-so-slowly you pinned the Joker to the floor, relishing in his grunts of pain. Once he was pinned down you pulled out your knife, a gift from (ironically) Harley for your birthday.

You carved into his skin, making sure each cut would scar permanently. But you left his face alone. You wanted people to see just who this was. That the Joker, the Clown Prince of Crime, wasn’t invulnerable.

By the time you let up, the Joker was a bruised, bloody mess. He would live. His injuries would take weeks, probably months to heal. And even then he would still be in pain for the rest of his life.

VIOLENCE HAS ENDED

The Batman found you not long after. You were sitting on a crate messing with your phone. The Joker laid nearby, beaten beyond a bloody pulp and unconscious, but still breathing.

“Why did you do this?” The Batman was shocked, but didn’t show it. He almost didn’t believe anyone was capable of doing this to their father, even if he was the Joker.

“You can’t tell me he didn’t deserve it.” You put your phone away and looked up at the Batman, his face unreadable beneath the cowl.

“Why?” Sighing, you ran a hand through your hair. You really weren’t getting out of answering his question, were you?

“He hurt my girlfriend.” Batman frowned a little more.

“Who—” You cut him off before he could finish the question.

“Barbara. She and I have been dating for about a year now. He fucking shot her. This is the least I could have done to him.” Shock silenced the bat, but soon he spoke.

“...You should go see her.” You raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“Not going to arrest me?” He shook his head.

“She needs you now. We’ll talk later.” You took a moment, then stood up and headed for the exit. The Batman was right.

And you needed to see how Barbara was doing.

~~~~~~~~

I don’t own the above gifs, all credits go to the owners.

[cptnsantiago]

take me home

2/?

~ all i want for christmas is your name

read on ao3

Everyone expects baby Peralta-Santiago to arrive early. It’s a Santiago child, they’re all early. Amy had expected, or  hoped, that early meant after Christmas but before the new year. That’s not the case. 

She instead decides to begin her journey into the world on the coldest night of the year, only four days from Christmas. Amy feels the first contractions at 4am, after spending the whole night attempting to find a comfortable position. All the while Jake snores next to her,  taunting her. 

She can’t bring herself to be genuinely angry at him - not yet. Jake had been nothing but supportive and excited for their baby, he had been since they decided to start trying. They were having a  girl. It had shocked everyone but Amy and she had been three hundred dollars richer for it. He had cried with her at the ultrasound when they found out were having a girl. Jake also stayed up late with her, gave her massages at her demand, provided her with every craving she had. He may not be carrying a 10-pound human (maybe an exaggeration, Amy couldn’t tell) inside him, but he deserved his rest as much as she did. 

So she lets him sleep until the contractions are close enough to worry, but it doesn’t take long until they hurt bad enough to dig her nails into his arm. “Ames?”

“B-baby.” Amy winces again before sucking in a deep breath as the contraction slowly subsides. 

“Is something wrong?” Amy shakes her head, “Is… Is she coming, Ames? Was that a contraction?”

“Yep.” Amy laughs, finally smiling at Jake’s concerned features. “Nine days early, she’s really outdoing the rest of the Santiago’s.”

“David couldn’t beat you at this if he  tried .” Jake encourages with a teasing grin. “We’re having our baby?”

“We’re having our baby.” Amy cries happily, shifting closer to him so he can wrap his arms around her, “I love you.”

The next 15 hours are a blur. Jake is a lot calmer than she expected - not like in every movie or TV show ever where the dad freaks out and faints at the sight of anything gooey - but he stays calm, he guides her through her breathing exercises and offers physical support when she needs it. Jake gets the nurse to back off when she congratulates them on a Christmas baby, because he knew how stressed she was about the dessert she definitely wasn’t bringing for Christmas. He’s really the perfect partner. 

Amy remembers the days of feelings simmering just under the surface and thinking to herself,  Jake is way too immature. It would never work  . Before Jake, Amy thought that being right was everything. Against David, Amy always had to be right and could never lose an argument without lowkey being the end of the world for her. She had never liked being wrong, but she wears this misconception with a badge of pride because there is  no one  else Amy could imagine or  want  to do all this with. 

Jake Peralta was her person. And they had a baby girl together. 

A baby girl born at 7:37pm on December 21st. Seven pounds, twenty inches. A baby girl whom they keep calling Baby Girl Peralta-Santiago because she had been cursed with decisive cops as parents who were apparently indecisive in every other way. 

It’s not really at the top of their priorities - they’re busting adoring every inch of her wriggling in her mother’s arms. Amy traces with her finger the dark hair that peaks from under her hospital issued beanie, over her eyebrows and past her blinking and confused eyes down to her cheeks, nose, lips and chin. “She’s actually your twin, you’re just born many years apart. This is a scientific discovery, babe!” 

Amy rolls her eyes at his quiet enthusiasm, her fingers moving back to stroke their daughters cheeks. “Santiago’s just have strong genes.”

“That’s why you’re all so gorgeous of course. Thanks Victor and Camila!” Jake slides closer behind Amy so she can rest her head against him, and both of them are able to watch their daughter attempt to focus on something. “What’s your name, mija?”

The post baby hormones are almost more of a bitch than her pregnancy, so she has to take a moment to pull herself together at Jake saying  mija to their daughter . “Por favor, no te pongas de acuerdo con Naomi. He just wants to name you after Nakatomi plaza and we have to stick together so he can’t trick us!” 

“Oh  please  , Ames. You were the one trying to name her Hermione.” Jake scoffs, “She’s gonna end up being Baby Girl forever. We can’t even make that work! People will think we’re trying to copy Friends!”

“Her name is definitely not baby girl. We’re going to figure it out, let’s just enjoy her and fall asleep.”

~ 

They leave the hospital without a name. The nurse informs them that they have two weeks to decide and get the paperwork in. But the time restriction somehow stresses her out more than picking the perfect name, combined with Christmas being in two days and not having any presents or an outfit for her to wear. 

Jake holds her hand the whole time she rants, just as he always did, his eyes shifting occasionally to the tiny newborn sleeping in the bassinet next to their bed. “Ames, take a deep breath. I’m almost certain she’ll forgive us if she doesn’t have any presents at four days old, and Charles already told me he found four potential Christmas outfits.”

“What would I do without Charles?” Amy sighs happily, turning to run a hand through Jake’s sleepy curls. “What would I do without you?” 

Jake leans forward so their foreheads were touching, both leaning into the quiet moment with only their breathing and tiny baby snores and grunts in the background. He kisses the side of her mouth, his heart warming as a small but tired smile creeps on her face. “We should probably sleep while she’s sleeping.”

“I still have so much to prepare.” Amy whines, her head falling down to his shoulder. 

“Just a little nap, Ames. I’m sure she’ll be screaming at us soon enough for the boob.”

~

It’s a lot of the same for them. Sleep, feed baby girl with no name, change diaper, attempt to think about Christmas, sleep more, eat when Charles comes over with food, brainstorm baby names, and sometimes even more sleep. 

A tradition of their own since they had moved in together was to stay in on Christmas Eve, watching  Harry Potter  and stay up till midnight so they could open each other’s presents - it was a little harder this year. Jake was holding a milk drunk, almost four day old baby in one arm while his other was wrapped around his half asleep wife, trying himself not to fall asleep while Harry fought off Voldemort for the first time. 

Even when he wasn’t nodding off himself, his eyes were usually on the baby in his arms. Charles had gone all out in the baby Christmas outfit department. She had on a thick red headband with a bow on the side, snowflakes printed all over with matching pants, a onesie that read ‘My 1st Christmas!’ and a knitted cardigan over the top to keep her warm. Jake was afraid of the parents he and Amy were becoming, because they both  loved  it. She looked so  cheesy  but it was the cutest thing in the world, and they even did their own mini photoshoot before she started screaming to be fed. 

So here Jake was, surrounded by his family - a milk drunk baby and his wife fast asleep on his shoulder. The baby in his arm begins to squirm, grunting and opening her eyes. “Cómo te llamas, mija?” Jake’s heart warms as she meets his eyes, “Angelica? Eliza? Peggy? Or no Schyler sister names?”

“Absolutely not.” Amy mumbles next to him, eyes still closed. 

“Eliza isn’t a bad name.” Jake replies with a frown. 

Amy opens her eyes, stretching and looking at their baby. “She doesn’t look like an Eliza.”

At that, she grunts and her face contorts in a grimace. 

“Gotcha, no Eliza.” Jake snorts, both him and Amy watched in amazement as she continues to grimace before closing her eyes again and smiling. “Ames! She smiled, definitely not Eliza! She must have hated Eliza.”

“That, or she passed gas.” Amy giggles, pinching her nose. “Hey, look at the time.”

“Midnight! Happy Christmas!” Jake whispers, stroking her cheek lightly before turning to peck Amy on the lips. “Merry Christmas, I love you.”

“Merry Christmas…” Amy sighs happily, closing her eyes again for a moment. “Already four days old and she’s about to face the most chaotic day of the year.”

“We can just skip it?” Jake questions, his voice squeaking as he tries to believe his own words. “I know it’s crazy, but who expects us to go out with a four day old for more than half an hour?”

“My parents is who.” She shakes her head, “Maybe we can be late?”

“Wow you  are  sleep deprived.” Jake laughs softly, “What if we’re late  and we leave early?”

“You’re talking crazy talk now!” Amy snorts, biting her lip as to not disturb the sleeping baby. “I’m getting sick of calling her baby girl, seriously.”

Jake nods in agreement and they fall into a peaceful silence, with only the sounds of the city and Harry Potter in the background. She never thought it would be  this impossible to choose a name for their baby. The baby wrapped up in Jake’s arms was too perfect to have their name rushed. 

The time they spent  trying  , and waiting for results and keeping it a secret from Boyle - it all lead to this moment. Not so much her being born, even though that was a  huge  deal, but being given her name. She had to live with it for whole life (unless she  wanted to change it  - they had both been very adamant in supporting this potential for their daughters future). Maybe they were overthinking it, and the fact that they’ve had a combined thirteen hours sleep in the last two days wasn’t helping them make a choice. 

“Maybe we should revisit some names?” Jake offers, and Amy’s certain he’s read her mind.

“Okay, yeah. Good idea.” Amy agrees, “But no Naomi.”

“Yeah! I get it! Naomi’s out of the picture!” Jake tips his head back in laughter, which wakes the infant in his arms. They’re lucky she doesn’t cry, but just stares up at her father again. “Good you’re awake, we need your help.”

“Now should we go over the suggestions from the squad?” Amy looks to her phone, which has an extensive list. 

“I mean, Rosa’s suggestion is Kid and Charles insists on Charlotte, so no?” Jake shifts the baby so she’s resting on his bent knees. This way she’s able to attempt to look at the both of them while fighting off sleep again. “I think I have an idea…”

“Do tell.” Amy’s not looking at him but looping her pointer finger so she can grip tightly onto it. 

“So I thought Luna-”

“Jake we agreed no character names!” Amy groans, pouting up at him.

“I  know but hear me out, Ames. I’ve thought about this.” Jake’s eyes begin to shimmer, either from tiredness or pure affection, she can’t tell but she knows he’s sincere. “So I thought Luna Rey, for a few reasons. So first, they both have a meaning in Spanish, right?”

“Moon King?” Amy snorts, “That barely makes sense.”

“Ah, but they have meaning. Rey has more of a meaning of Captain Holt to me, and he’s your mentor and best friend after- nevermind he’s your best friend. But also Captain Holt is basically king of the precinct, so it totally works.” Amy can’t really fight that, so she nods and waits for him to continue. “ And Luna, because, well you probably don’t remember because you were deliriously tired but there was a full moon the night she was born. And I stood with her in my arms by the window and just thought about how beautiful they both were. Our baby, and the moon - except she’s prettier. So Spanish meaning, boom!

Okay... So, uh, reason one was basically all my reasons meshed together, and I’m too tired to put up a proper argument for you right now  however  , my final statement. Luna Rey Santiago-Peralta, has both personal and cultural meaning while also happening to be named after two  badass characters that we both love. Rey and Luna Lovegood. Debate over.”

Amy’s lack of sleep is the only reason she’s unable to keep the tears at bay as she laughs at her husband. The first time she had heard the name Luna, she had been so vehemently against it but now after hearing Jake’s case, she can’t remember those protests. 

“Luna? Es ese es tu nombre?” Amy whispers, her heart expanding five sizes as she says it out loud. She doesn’t react like the last time, but she does attempt to pull Amy’s finger into her mouth. “Luna Rey Santiago-Peralta.”

“We’d like to formally apologise for giving you too long of a name.” Jake chuckes, “Do you really like it?”

“Yes, I do.” Amy sniffles, smiling at him brightly. “I’ve really turned you into a debate genius.”

“Only for Luna. It’s what she deserves.” Jake teases with a kiss to Amy’s nose before his eyes drift back to Luna. “It’s really her first Christmas, I’m too tired to process any of this.”

“Happy Christmas, Luna.” 

“The happiest of Christmases, to both of you.”

[toothpastecanyon]

Noie’s Brother, Chapter 11

Fate sometimes rhymed, but Alcor felt like this one was a little on the nose. A newborn Mizar fading away in the hospital and a loving father pleading to him from behind a circle of candles.

Fate sometimes rhymed, but Naomi Argenta just wants this stupid vampire to stop harassing her brother. It’s making him go… weird. 

A huge thanks to @feferipeixes for helping to beta read this chapter!! Also I made a few minor references to President Chancellor - if you’re curious, that comes from their awesome fic Lucy Ann and the Lunch Bunch! You definitely don’t need to read it to understand this chapter, but I think it’s a really cool piece of writing and I’d recommend it to everyone!

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

________________________________________________________________

               It was another long day for Noie. Another long, weird day spent sneaking glances at Dipper and jumping at the sound of school bells. Another day spent keeping conversations short and strategic, vague and unhelpful; keeping certain topics close to her chest, like cards in this weird game she was playing with her brother.

               Playing, not talking.

               “Oh, wow, Dipper, you’re right, that doesn’t make it sound like vampires can affect your dreams that much… but who knows, maybe it’s a super powerful one! I got some more books for you on that!”

               Acting, not reacting.

               “Your shoulder hurts? Oh no, bro! It’s probably from all these nerdy books you’ve been hunched over all day today - c’mon, sit back for a second.”

               Showing, but never, never telling.

               “Nervous? Haha, what’ve I gotta be nervous about, bro?” Her eyes flitted towards the clock in front of the classroom. “We’re going home soon! Going back to the house, yeah…”

               Dipper opened his mouth to reply, but then he hesitated, closed it, and turned back to his notes without protest. The look on his face… it put a strain on her smile.

               She didn’t remember when he’d stopped arguing with her.

               “And I believe that is all I have for today!” The teacher’s voice made Noie glance up at him; she watched his brow furrow at the rustle of people reaching for their bags. “Hey, hey! Did I say you could pack up? Everyone can stay in their seats and talk - quietly! - with your neighbors until the bell rings. Let’s have a little patience, alright? Thank you.”

               With that, he strode over to his desk and sat himself down behind a computer, leaving the room to fill with chatter. Noie looked down the many rows of students in seats, textbooks on tables, and the top of her teacher’s face bobbing up and down above his monitor, cut off just above his eyes.

               No one was looking her way, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that had kept her on edge all day today.

               The feeling that she was being watched.

               Noie shivered at that. She opened her mouth, hesitated, pressed her pencil against the desk until the lead broke, then swept the mess away and turned to Dipper.

               “Going to the store today.” Her words came out too quiet; she cleared her throat. “Dipper?”

               He didn’t look up from his notes. “Yeah?”

               “We’re going to the store today, okay?”

               “Okay…” Dipper said, but confusion quickly spread across his face. Now, he looked up at her. “Wait, what? The store?”

               “Yeah!”

               “Why? I thought we were good on food and stuff this week.”

               “We’re low on ibuprofen.”

               “I mean, not that low. No need to make, like, an emergency shopping trip-”

               “It’s not an emergency!” Noie cut in. When he frowned at her, she grinned and gave him a nudge. “C’mon, bro! It’ll be good! Why’re you giving me that face?”

               Dipper took a moment to respond. He looked down, covered his face with his hands, and kneaded his forehead. He let out a groan, then: “Ugh… sorry, Noie.”

               “Aww, don’t be sorry, bro! We’ll get you the extra strength tablets, alright?”

               “No, it’s just… can we do this some other day? Please?” He sat back, still rubbing his face. “I’m not really feeling a shopping trip right now - my head hurts, and my shoulder still feels weird, and the whole… whole deal with the vampire… I kind of just wanted to go home.”

               “Aww, Dipper…”

               “You can go if you want, I’m not saying that. Just let me-”

               “No, you can’t go home on your own!” She thought of Lucy Ann in the backyard and shook her head. “Look, it’ll just be-”

               “Noie, please? I, really really don’t want to.”

               “But-but-” Noie stammered. “But you promised!”

               At that, Dipper hesitated. He lifted up his head and raised an eyebrow at her. “I promised?”

               That look he was giving made her cringe. She racked her mind for some kind of answer. “Um, yeah! Back at the- back on the bus! This morning! Before, uh, you went to sleep!”

               “I promised… to go on a shopping trip?”

               “You don’t remember?” Noie could see a little uncertainty creep into his frown. “We were sitting there, going to school, and you were like- um, I was like… actually, you were like ‘Let’s go to the store!’ and I was like ‘yeah!’”

               “But why would I-”

               “Because…!” Her eyes landed on his textbook. “Because vampires! I mean vampire stuff! We were going to buy vampire stuff, remember? For your dream things!”

               He blinked. “Oh… we were gonna buy, like, garlic or something?”

               “Yeah! Haha, you could put some garlic under your pillow - that’d stop anybody from getting too close to you!”

               “Heh, yeah… I guess that does make sense. Not the garlic under the pillow thing, but yeah, we should stock up on that stuff.” Dipper opened the book. “Thanks for, uh, reminding me.”

               Noie didn’t say anything to that. She just sat there, and smiled at him, and twisted her pencil ‘til it snapped in two.

               The bell rang. Dipper looked up.

               “Oh, nice.” He closed his book. “So, uh, are we going to the convenience store, or the store store… oh wait, I’m dumb, they don’t sell garlic in convenience stores. Heh, you ever just immediately answer your own question like that, Noie? Noie?”

               His words washed over her. She stared through his face, and for a moment even the churning pit in her stomach seemed so very far away…

               Then he touched her and she jumped.

               “Hey!” She started to knock his hand away, but gave it a quick pat instead. “I mean, hey. Oh, cool, did the bell ring? Alriiight, school’s out!”

               “Noie, are you-”

               “Fine! Fine! Everything is fine!” Noie shoved her book into her bag. “Everything is completely fine and let me just zip this up here, aaand done! Alright, bus! Bus bus bus!”

               She jumped up and flashed him her brightest smile. He returned a frown, his face a mixture of concern and confusion and frustration that put a lump in her throat. She swallowed.

               “What?” Her voice came off angry; she barked a laugh to try and soften it. “Hah, what’s up with you? Why the long face? I said I’m fine.”

               Dipper looked down. He didn’t say a word.

               “I am fine, okay? Dipper?” Noie’s smile stretched paper thin. “Cool, good talk. Well, we’ve gotta catch our bus now, okay? Come on.”

               She stepped away, and he followed just behind her. The hallways were already quite empty, and the odd group of chattering students didn’t do much to distract from the looming silence between them.

               Down the stairs they walked. Out the building. They rounded a corner, and Noie found herself staring down the main gates, and the glowing figure standing guard beside them.

               At that, she caught her breath. She slowed down to walk with Dipper, and they walked closer, closer.

               She shot him glances. Stared at his soft brown eyes. Linked hands with him, and tried for a smile when that made him raise an eyebrow at her.

               “Hey, Dipper.” She squeezed his hand. “I love you.”

               “I… love you too? Why are you saying it like that?”

               Noie opened her mouth to respond, but the words shriveled on her tongue when she saw his eyes flicker black on gold.

               At first it was just a flash; it was hard to tell if it’d been a trick of the light, and Dipper looked concerned at the sudden shock on her face. He squeezed her hand, and opened his mouth, but they walked closer and his eyes kept flickering.

               Kept flickering, and emotion drained from his face. Noie looked away, but she could feel his gentle squeeze get tighter and tighter and tighter until it felt like her hand was going to fold down the middle - ow.

               She sucked in a breath, kept her head down and kept going.

               Kept walking.

               They were nearly there.

               Nearly through.

               Dipper would be back soon, she told herself.

               Dipper would be back soon.

               Dipper would be back soon-

                               “Hello, child. Please wait.”

               Those words came through a chorus of voices - the angel. Noie frowned at its glowing boots, and reluctantly came to a stop.

               “Um, hey?” She cringed as Dipper’s grip tightened even more. “Do you need something? Not that it’s, uh, not nice to see you and all, but I can’t really stay and chat-”

                               “Oh, I have no favours to ask of you. Quite on the contrary, I have listened to your needs and taken it upon myself to - oh, shall I use a human colloquialism here? There are so many to choose from; your language is charming in its inefficiency, I must say.”

               “Can we maybe get to the point?”

                               “‘To the point’ - heh, there’s one of them. Yes, let us ‘get to the point.’” The two officers cleared their throats, and then a man stepped forwards. From his rubbery gloves and dark blue apron, he looked like one of the people who worked in the cafeteria. He gave Noie a too-wide smile, and then reached into the pocket of his apron and drew out…

               “Oh. Garlic?” Noie made a face. “And a hammer. And a… a stake. That is an actual stake you’ve got there. Um.”

                               “I have blessed these with the cleansing light of my innermost essences. They will be far more effective than any equivalent one could purchase at a human marketplace.” The man held them out to Noie with a grin. “You’re welcome, child. Or as your kind may say, ‘it’s on me.’”

               “Uh…” Noie shuffled back. “Thanks, buddy, this is real… real thoughtful of you, but I think I’m gonna pass on your, um, innermost essences.”

                               “Pass?” All three heads cocked in unison. “You are refusing my gifts?”

               “I mean, refusing’s a strong word, but y’know, my folks like getting points for gas when I use their card, and I’m pretty sure that stake thing is actually super illegal, so…”

               She trailed off. The men just stared at her, faces completely blank.

               “...so yeah? We’re still good? Still…” Noie heard a deep rumbling sound start up beside her; she glanced over to see Dipper baring his teeth at the angel, face contorted with rage. “Oh, he is… he is growling right now. Okay. Um, I think I’ve gotta go? So bye?”

               She stepped back, and stepped back again. The angel didn’t react, so she flashed a smile, snapped a wave, and dragged Dipper out of there at the fastest walking speed she could manage.

               She didn’t look back. She didn’t look at Dipper. She kept her eyes facing forwards, fixed on their bus as it pulled away from their stop and drove off into the distance.

________________________________________________________________

               “Dipper? How’re we holding up, bro?”

               “Ughhhhh…”

               Noie made a face at her brother, who was currently crumpled on a bench outside the supermarket. She waved off some concerned-looking shoppers with a “Don’t worry, he’s okay!”, then gently pried one of his hands off his forehead and pressed a packet of frozen peas into it.

               “Here,” she said, and tucked a receipt into his pocket. “And keep this too, just in case. I’m ninety nine percent sure nobody’s gonna ask for it, but hey, people are jerks sometimes, y’know? Hah!”

               She laughed, but Dipper didn’t respond. He wasn’t very talkative at the moment - he hadn’t been since that encounter with the angel at the gates.

               The memory sent shivers down her spine, brought back flashes of glowing golden eyes, of growling, of looking down at the ache in her hand and seeing actual claw marks in her skin… Noie shook her head clear, and rose to her feet.

               “Alright, you wait here.” She hesitated before patting him on the shoulder. “I’ll be super quick, okay? Pinky promise.”

               Dipper managed a nod.

               “Yeah, that’s the spirit!” With a grin, she stepped away. “You’re the best, Dipper! Love you!”

               Noie took a few steps backwards… then a few more, and a few more not quite able to take her eyes off him. There was a pit in her stomach when she looked at him sitting there, all alone, with his head buried in a pack of frozen peas…

               Maybe this was a bad idea.

               Before she could think too much on it, there was a “Hey!” and Noie had to dodge a cart she’d wandered into the way of. The man pushing it shot her a glare. “Watch where you’re going!”

               “Sorry, sorry!” Her cheeks burned as he stalked past her. “Sorry…”

               Then she cleared her throat, glanced one last time back at Dipper, and made her way inside before she got in anybody else’s way.

               She’d be quick.

               Noie grabbed a basket from the side and held it in the crook of her elbow as she linked her fingers together. One hand rubbed the claw marks on the back of the other as she made a beeline to the fresh produce - it was right by the entrance - and picked out a head of garlic and some pumpkin seeds.  She spotted some bananas and remembered they were out, but a split second later she also remembered Dipper hanging on for her for outside and skipped past them to find the painkillers.

               Ugh, the medicine aisle was all the way on the other side of the store. She rolled her eyes and broke out into a little jog as she made her way there; the extra strength ibuprofen was about halfway down the aisle, and she picked one out - no, two. Just in case.

               Noie tossed those into her basket, and grimaced at her little collection.

               Alright. That should keep Dipper from getting suspicious about this shopping trip.

               Now for what she actually needed to buy.

               Noie paced the aisles a little bit before she found the one she was looking for. Fridges full of frozen meals lined one side, and on the other was a man choosing between two bottles of wine; she pretended to stare at the frozen meals until he sighed, threw both of them in his cart, and shuffled off.

               With a shiver, she looked both ways and headed to a very small section tucked to the very back of the aisle, labelled ‘Vampire Products’. Between that title and the bright red bloodpacks dangling from each shelf, it was obvious a human like Noie was not supposed to be opening this particular fridge.

               So she did it quickly, and moved away to examine the squishy bag of gross that was now in her hands.

               It was cold to the touch. The plastic felt thin and clammy - kind of like seran wrap, Noie thought, and with that analogy in mind she was careful not to squeeze it too hard. The label was plain white and noticeably devoid of branding; apart from a logo and tagline tucked into the corner (‘Sated Solutions: Keeping Our Streets Safe Since 2029’), the rest of the space was packed with warnings, each one delivered with more CAPITALISED WORDS FOR EMPHASIS than an angry internet post:

BLOOD PACK FOR VAMPIRIC CONSUMPTION ONLY: 495ml WHOLE BLOOD, COLLECTION DATE 04/25/85

CAUTION: THIS PRODUCT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR USE IN TRANSFUSIONS.

CAUTION: THIS PRODUCT IS NOT SUITABLE FOR GENERAL CONSUMPTION. CONSUMPTION OF HUMAN BLOOD MAY LEAD TO HEMOCHROMATOSIS (IRON OVERLOAD) WHICH CAN CAUSE ORGAN DAMAGE, IRREGULAR HEARTBEAT, CIRRHOSIS OF THE LIVER…

               It went on, and Noie skimmed the rest before gingerly placing it in her basket and proceeding to self-checkout. No drinking the blood, got it.

               She scanned the garlic and the seeds and the ibuprofen, and put them in a bag. Then, with a quick glance over her shoulder, she scanned the bloodpack and shoved it into another bag as fast as she could. She wrapped that bag up, put it in with the other stuff she’d bought, then got out her grandfather’s card and went to pay.

               The bloodpack was twenty-five dollars. Noie muttered a little ‘sorry’ to the card reader as she typed in his pin.

               (This was just a one time thing, she reasoned. She only needed it to last a few days… it’d last that long, right?)

               (Seriously, how much could a vampire even drink?)

               She doodled a little heart on the signature line, and took a deep breath to to steady her own racing pulse as she waited for the beep. Once it went through she pulled out the card, grabbed the bag, and darted for the exit.

               “Dipper? Dipper!” She called his name before she could even see the bench. She rounded the corner, and- “Dipper, there you are!”

               Dipper had sat up, and was giving her an odd look. “Yeah? You told me to wait-”

               “I’m sorry I was gone so long!” Noie wrapped him up in a hug. “I’ve got everything you wanted though, so- oh! How’s your head feeling?”

               “Not great, with you yelling in my ear like that.”

               “Sorry! I mean, sorry… You okay, though?”

               “Yeah… I’m feeling a little better.” He rubbed his forehead. “I’ll be fine, I just want to go home and lie down for a bit.”

               With a tight smile, Noie drew back. “That’s fair, bro. We’ll go home now.” She helped him to his feet. “We’ll go straight home, and you’ll go straight to bed, okay? Okay. Ohhh-kay.”

________________________________________________________________

               Noie had this evening all planned out. Dipper was going to go sleep off his headache, so she’d take that time to slip the bloodpack to Lucy Ann. She could do that in five minutes, then go pick up a few more vampire books from Grandma’s study; if she dumped some heavy ones on his lap as soon as he woke up, she could probably keep him in his room all night. There’d be no chance of him even seeing the vampire!

               She opened the front door, grinning to herself. This was good! This was a good plan. Then she could wake up early, and do breakfast in bed...

               “Hey, kids!”

               Wait, what?

               “Good day at school? Say, aren’t you back earlier than this most days?”

               Noie stared at her grandfather, who was sitting in the dining room and reading an actual newspaper. She was about to ask where her grandma was when-

               Oh, stars.

               Oh, no...

               “Everything alright?” David frowned at them. “You two look terrible.”

               Dipper was already shuffling towards the bedroom. “We’re, uh, fine, Grandpa… I got a headache today.”

               “Another bad one, eh?”

               “Yeah. I’m going to lie down.”

               “You do that, kid. You’ll feel better.” David watched him go, forehead wrinkling in concern. “Might need to take him to the doctor… hey, Naomi, what’s the, uh… the number for the lady your brother sees? D’you know where Allie kept it?”

               Noie didn’t answer. She didn’t hear the question. She was too busy staring at her grandmother.

               Sitting outside.

               Talking.

               Laughing.

               Lucy Ann.

               “Naomi?”

               Where was Lucy Ann?

               “Naomi!”

               Noie blinked. Her grandfather was frowning at her, now.

               “Will you listen to me, kid? I was asking you a question. I wanted to make an appointment with the neurologist for your brother; I’m getting worried about all these headaches he’s been having lately-”

               “Oh, I can set that up.” She blurted out, then: “Why’s Grandma outside? Who’s she talking to?”

               “Huh?” David glanced outside. “Oh, uh, she’s… She came out with me while I was tryna see what was tapping at our porch this morning, and for some reason she didn’t want to come back inside. Wanted to keep sitting out there.” He stuck his nose back into the newspaper. “Don’t ask me why. It’s hot as… it’s hot today.”

               Noie watched Allie let out a laugh. She could hear the faintest bit of it come through the glass, loud and happy. “B-but who’s she talking t-”

               “She’s fine.” He cut her off. “Everything’s fine, she’s just… practicing an old speech of hers or something, I don’t know. I’m just waiting for her to come in so I don’t have to keep sitting on this damn chair - my back’s screaming for the couch, I tell you.” He looked down at the bag in her hands. “Did’ja go to the store?”

               “What? Oh, uh!” Noie hid the bag behind her. “I just- we got garlic.”

               “Were we-”

               “Yes, we were out!” Darting over to the counter, she dumped the garlic and - she’d find a home for it later - the pumpkin seeds into the fruit bowl, then squeezed past the dining table to get to the porch. “I’m going outside!”

               “What? No, don’t…” David hesitated, thought on it for a second, and then sighed. “I mean, uh, I guess you can if you really want to. I don’t know why I’m saying no, I don’t see the harm.”

               She gave him a hug as she passed his chair. “Thanks, Grandpa!”

               “What are you- oh, hugs, alright. Yes, yes, you’re very welcome for, uh… well I’ve been thinking, and, y’know, I say no to a lot of things that maybe don’t matter so much, and-”

               “Oh! You need to go away, Grandpa!”

               “Excuse me?”

               “I mean…” Noie tore her eyes away from the porch, and gave David an awkward smile. “Why don’t you let me keep an eye on Granny?”

               He raised an eyebrow. “You want to sit out there and watch her?”

               “Yeah! A-and you can go back to the couch and watch TV and not be right here?” Her smile stretched wide. “Doesn’t that sound nice? That sounds nice to me.”

               “I’m not sure… you know you can’t walk off on her, right?”

               “Of course! I would never do that!”

               “So you’re gonna stay out there as long as she’s out there?”

               “Pinky promise!”

               Hmmm…” He narrowed his eyes. “Why’re we so eager to look after Allie all of a sudden?”

               “Cause she’s my Granny and I love her? I don’t need a reason to wanna hang out with her!”

               “That’s… I suppose that’s true, but-”

               Noie forced a laugh as she plucked the newspaper out of his hands. “Besides, I have to rescue you from this. Don’t you get news on your phone?”

               David tensed at that; oops, she'd hit a nerve.

               “Ohh, can’t you get news on your phone?” He imitated her voice in a mocking falsetto, and she cringed. “Everyone’s like ohh, it’s so convenient, and then everyone’s wondering why journalism’s dying out - you know what happened once an old paper of mine stopped selling print?”

               “Grandpa-”

               “Suddenly ohh, we just don’t know if that story’s gonna get clicks, ‘cause suuure, that’s the important thing to talk about, the fucking clicks, ‘cause what else are we here to-”

               “Grandpa!” Noie nudged him away with a polite smile. “That’s really cool and important and all, but…” She glanced outside. “Um…”

               He rolled his eyes, and got to his feet with an exaggerated sigh. “Fine, I can take a hint. Nobody wants to hear what Grandpa has to say, he should just shut up and go watch TV.”

               “That’s not what I said!”

               “You keep a close eye on Allie.” He pointed at her with the newspaper. “That’s what you agreed to, and maybe that’s not convenient or whatever, but it’s important, and you young people’ve gotta learn it’s not one or the other.”

               “Young people? What are you even- I’m not gonna let her wander off, okay! Why do you think I’d ever do that?”

               “You gotta learn, is all I’m saying.” David shuffled off, rubbing his back. “You gotta learn.”

               “Alright, alright... sheesh.” Noie crossed her arms. “‘You young people’, oh, my stars. You think there was ever some old grump who said that to Grandpa back when he was a kid? Heh, I bet he was like ‘I wanna be just like you when I grow up!’”

               There was no reply. She looked around, and saw Dipper wasn’t standing next to her… oh, right.

Tap, tap, tap.

               Noie turned around, and saw her grandmother tapping on the glass. Allie smiled and waved at her when they made eye contact, and there was a flicker of a figure from behind a wall running down one side of the porch.

               Oh, right.

               She gulped, drew the blinds, and gingerly stepped outside.

               The first thing she heard was, “Naomi!”

               “Hi, uh, Granny. I-”

               Arms came down and wrapped her in a hug. Allie squeezed her tight, tighter than she had in a long time. She tousled Noie’s hair and laughed; the sound was loud and loving, happy and carefree, and all the things Noie was going to say suddenly dried up on her tongue.

               “It’s so good to see you!” Allie pulled back, and there was a shine in her smile. “Oh, wow, you’ve grown, haven’t you! Shot up like a seed, a seaweed!” She leaned forward. “You taller than Dipper yet?”

               There was a lump in her throat. “I… um, I… I don’t... think so?”

               “Aww, you should measure. Round your age, you’ll proberbe taller… pr-, properly? No, ‘probably’ ‘be’ taller.” She snorted to herself. “Words, Allie. What are we doing here?”

               Noie just stared. It was strange, to see her grandmother like this: so animated, so responsive, so happy, so… herself.

               Not because it was unfamiliar, because it wasn’t. Her hug, her laugh, her smile, and how it gave way to concern as she noticed the look on Noie’s face; this was all so, so familiar, and suddenly, she missed it so, so badly.

               “Naomi? Sweetie?” Allie squeezed her shoulders. “What’s the matter?”

               She just shook her head and hugged her Grandma. There were no words to explain it, and maybe Allie realised that, too; she just held Noie close, and rocked her a little, and for a moment, wrapped up warm and safe in her arms, everything really was okay.

               Everything was as it should be.

               Then Allie noticed someone. Noie felt her stiffen, and wiped her eyes before looking up questioningly.

               She was frowning at the wall behind the porch… and the figure currently trying to flatten herself against it. The confusion slowly turned to recognition, and then:

               “Is that… is that Lucy Ann? Oh, my stars!”

               Wait, what?

               Noie just had time to go, “Huh?” before she was almost pushed aside in a sudden dash over to the vampire. Lucy Ann stopped trying to hide; she stood up straight, and shot a glance at Noie before putting on her best smile and extending a hand.

               “Uh, hi. Yeah, it’s me again.”

               “Oh my stars, Lucy Ann!” Allie shook her hand vigorously, her words tumbling out of her mouth - almost nervously. “It’s- it’s an honour! I can believe I’m finely meaning you, I never fought I’d see- I… oh, where armyanners?” She gave one more firm shake, and her smile straightened into something more professional. “I’m Senator Aleksandra Argenta, from Southern Arizona. It really is a pleasure to meet you.”

               With wide eyes, Noie watched Lucy Ann look from Allie’s dishevelled grey hair down to her faded blue nightgown and bare feet, then dip her head and say: “It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Senator. Big fan of your work.”

               “You guys know each other?!”

               Allie turned to Noie, and her smile brightened even further. “Oh, Naomi! You’re here!” She dashed up to her and gave her another huge hug. “It’s so good do see you! Howave you been? How’s school? Oh wow, you’ve gotten so much taller!”

               “I-” Noie pointed at Lucy Ann. “I don’t… How do you…?”

               Lucy Ann chuckled. “Oh, I might’ve made a couple names for myself over the years. I’m surprised you didn’t recognise me with a grandma this cool, though I’ll cut you some slack - I didn’t recognise Argenta either.” Her grin sharpened. “Guess I didn’t see the resemblance.”

               “What?”

               “Naomi, you have to meet this, this!” Allie took her hand and dragged her right up to the vampire. “This is Lushiann, she was instruments in taking down the Chancellor admini-uh-instrumentation acapple centaursa go! Living histree!”

               “What?”

               “There was a very pro-nat President you guys elected a few hundred years back.” Lucy Ann crossed her arms. “Me and a Mizar and some friends, we, uh, ‘took care’ of her.”

               “Oh…” Naomi tried for a smile. “That’s nice. Good job?”

               “Yeah, I’d say saving millions of preters from getting hunted down by the government was a pret-ty good job.”

               “And we’re still fighting for pretrights.” Allie grumbled. “Laws from back then, they’re still on the books and peter-epresentation is still at history lows - you know itsstimated seventy percent of pre-transcendaged citisents are-egistered devote?”

               “Seventeen percent registered to vote, yeah.” Lucy Ann shook her head. “Used to require everyone to have a US birth certificate, no exceptions, and, uh, that’s rather hard for folks whose birth certificate - if they had one - predates the United States.”

               “I can’t believe that’s still alaw, I have a bill going through committeen right now to strike that one out.”

               “Yeah, and it passed.”

               “Oh, it passed?” Allie blinked, and then smiled. “Ohh, it did, didn’t it? That’s wonderful! Still a lot of work to do, though.”

               Lucy Ann nodded. “You can say that again.”

               “I’ll say it as many timesi need to.” She chuckled. “Some of my colleaks could use the reminder.”

               The two of them laughed, and Noie just stared. The scene was too utterly bizzare for her to process; all she could think was what the fuck was going on?

               There was a hand on her shoulder. Allie shot her a grin.

               “Naomi, it’s so good to see you! Oh, my stars, you’ve come at such a good time!” She motioned to Lucy Ann. “This is Lucy Ann - you’verurdove Lucy Ann, right?”

               Noie nodded weakly. “She took down a bad president?”

               “A bad pro-nat president.” Lucy Ann added. “Don’t you forget that bit.”

               “Sorry.”

               “Lucy Ann was such an inspiritasion for me getting in-tolitics.” Allie sighed. “You know, my sister got bitten when she was for a teen, and it was such a rightmare getting anything done for her… I was like, Lucy Ann showed us hundreds of years ago this was unexpectable! Why’s she still gotta deal with this? Someone’s gotta changeings!” She laughed, and squeezed Noie’s shoulder. “And I know we got quite a promisting young lady here who-onts to... to do good change things too.”

               Noie stiffened when Lucy Ann looked her way. “Uh…-”

               “Oh, yeah? She’s gonna be a senator too?”

               “I mean, I don’t know if I-”

               “She’s certainly got it in her, if she wants to.” Allie beamed down at her. “You’re a talented young lady, Naomi. Don’t short your sell short, you’re going to do amazing things. You and Dipper, I can’t wait to see what you do.”

               Noie didn’t know what to say to that. Lucy Ann pursed her lips.

               “Well, you’re not wrong, she’d certainly fit right in as a politician.” She cleared her throat. “Uh, Senator?”

               “Yes?”

               “It’s been really, really great chatting with you… seriously, you have no idea how much I appreciate the company.” She gave a barking laugh, and picked at the blood under her fingernails. “But, uh, d’you think I could, y’know, speak with your granddaughter for a sec? One on one?”

               “You want to do that?” Allie raised her eyebrows. “Oh, that sounds like exciting! What do you say, Nomi?”

               Noie glanced at Lucy Ann, who was giving her a very hard look beneath that smile. She made a face.

               “Uh, sure, I guess?”

               “Naomi,” there was gentle laughter in her grandmother’s voice. “I think you can say that a littleit more politely.”

               “...Yes? Thank you?”

               Lucy Ann’s smirk was hard to look at. “Oh, don’t mention it. You know I’m here all day.”

               “Really? What’s the occasion?”

               “Don’t worry about it, Senator. I’ll, uh, tell you later.” Lucy Ann waved her away. “Give me a second with Noie, alright?”

               “Oh, you want to talk with my granddaughter? That sounds exciting, Naomi, what do you-”

               “I need to walk you back to Grandpa!” Noie tugged her towards the door. “Uh, I’ll be back in a second!”

               Lucy Ann raised an eyebrow. “You’d better.”

               “I-I will!” She opened the door for Allie. “Come on, Granny.”

               “Where are we going?”

               “To Grandpa! To, uh, David!” Slowly, Noie coaxed her into the house. “Come on!”

               Allie frowned, but she let herself be led down the hall and into the living room. David gave her a wave when she sat Allie down next to him; he put his arm around his wife and looked back to the TV with a little grunt of thanks.

               Noie was just walking away when she heard, “Can you ask Lucy Ann when she’s free?”

               She spun around to stare at her, then at David. “Wh-what?”

               “I’d love to see her again.” Allie smiled. “Maybe I can invite her over to our house. For tea.”

               Noie just gaped at her grandmother, at a loss for words. After a moment, David waved her away.

               “I got her, Naomi.” He squeezed Allie’s shoulder. “Good to have you back, I was… Uh, you wanna watch anything in particular? I’m just clicking through channels - so much of it’s a bunch of crap. Ugh.”

               She backed up, staring at her grandmother for one more moment. Then she turned around and darted back through the halls and back outside.

               Lucy Ann was waiting for her, feet right up against the open door and all pretense of a smile dropped from her face. She raised her eyebrows when she caught sight of Noie.

               “Oh, you actually came back. Gotta admit, I was ninety percent sure you were just saying that.” She stepped to the side to let Noie through. “I was thinking of just screaming ‘DIPPER YOU’RE ALCOR’ through the door - y’know, since you left it open and all.”

               She slid the door closed. “Um, please don’t do that.”

               “Oh of course, it’d be very inconvenient for you, wouldn’t it.”

               “No, that’s-! Look,” Noie threw her bag on the table and fished out the bloodpack. “I got this for you, so I’m not gonna let you die, alright? Everything’s going to be okay, so if you could just wait here a little longer, I’m working on a plan-”

               “Of telling Dipper he’s Alcor?”

               “No, but-”

               “How long’s this plan gonna take?”

               “Uh, I don’t think it’ll be too long-”

               “Do you take constructive criticism?” She crossed her arms. “Or is it not quite out of the brainstorming stage?”

               “Uh… look, I have it under-”

               “No, you look, Noie!” Lucy Ann picked up the bloodpack with balled fists. “Look at this! This is insulting! I am not your pet! I am not going to stand in this fucking yard thirty feet from the only person who can actually help while you run around making stupid little plans that won’t fucking work!” She noticed Noie pressed up against the glass, and took a very deep breath. “Okay. Look, I am sorry this is so hard for you, but Dipper is Alcor, and an angel is trying to kill me, and I am sick and tired of sitting around in your yard doing nothing - I have a life to get back to!”

               “I…” Noie gulped. “I’m sorry, I-”

               “Don’t be sorry, just go get Alcor!” She stared Noie down. “Well?”

               “Um, i-it’s just-”

               “Ohhhh my starrrrs…” Lucy Ann dropped the bloodpack and kneaded her forehead. “How are you related to Senator Argenta? Just… how?”

               “She’s… she’s my grandma?” Noie cringed when Lucy Ann started banging her head against a wall. “Uh… did you… did you actually know her?”

               “Didn’t know her - I just met her this morning - but I knew of her, back when she was a senator.” She rested her head against the brick. “She did good work. And she was a real interesting lady to talk to, real passionate… I’m sorry she’s, y’know…”

               “Alzheimer's.”

               Lucy Ann sighed. “Yeah, I figured. That sucks, it really does.”

               “It’s okay.”

               “...You know, not everything has to be okay all the time.”

               Noie didn’t know what to say to that. She stared at Lucy Ann, and after a moment, the vampire turned to look at her.

               “Are you gonna go get Alcor for me?”

               She said nothing, and watched Lucy Ann’s eyes go flat. The vampire looked down again, down at the floor, and suddenly it was hard to ignore how small she was. How young she seemed, in a dirty red shawl several sizes too big for her.

               “Then I don’t know why you’re still standing there.”

               That made Noie cringe. “Do, uh, do you want me-”

               “To go? Yeah, I think that would be best.” She scuffed her feet against the porch. “I gotta lot of thinking to do: gotta figure out how to get to Alcor on my own and that’s… not easy. But hey, don’t let me stop you from living your life. Go inside.”

               Noie stepped back. She stepped back again. She opened the door, and glanced over at Lucy Ann one more time-

               “Seriously? Just go already!”

               Then slid it shut and walked away with her arms clasped around her chest, cradling the deep, sinking feeling in her stomach.

               This was fine. Or at least, it was going to be fine.

               She just had to hold it all together for a few more days.

               Just a few more days…

[afewmarvelousthoughts]

Stay Ch. 11

Master List: @afewmarvelousthoughtsadmin

Pairing: Natasha X Reader (Female)

Summary: You have a gift, the ability to see other people’s innermost secrets. For years you used it to gather intel for the highest bidder when you take on The Widow. After she becomes more than a mark the two of you spend years stealing moments. Post snap you wait in your designated meeting place, look back on the sordid past you share with the woman you love and hope against everything that she’s still alive.

Warnings: Physical violence, light smut, feels

A/N:  Breakups suck. Not having closure sucks. Being hurt sucks. Aaaand sometimes when we’ve been hurt that makes up a little... petty. 

And that’s all I’ve got. 

Tags are open!

@mywinterwolf @disagreetoagree @breezy1415 @peachthatdrinkslemonade @5aftermidnight @jeromethepsycho @marvel-randomness @daniellajocelyn @katecolleen @yanginginthere @wonderlandmind4 @piensa-bonito @for-the-love-of-the-fandom

- Post Snap -

You heave, stomach sufficiently cleared of anything now, body sore. The cool tile of the floor feels amazing on your face. You may still be a damn good spy despite it all but you were in fact, no longer 20. Booze and your body just couldn’t hang like you once did.

Even after all this time you’re amazed at how much it still hurts. How could that one word feel like being hit by a car…

- March 2006 -

It took almost four months. Four months of money and favors and free jobs. Four months of rage and anger and heartbreak. Four. Fucking. Months.

Had you been in the mood for fairness you would have congratulated yourself. She was the Black Widow after all. The fact that it only took four months to find her was impressive, to say the least. Especially since she didn’t want to be found.

In that time the details of what happened had come to your knowledge. As far as the public knew it was a tragic accident. Gas leak. The old hospital was in disrepair, that’s why they had a new facility opened up, it was believable.

The tragedy was that there was one special ward dedicated to children with a rare genetic disorder who needed accommodations to be moved. It was taking a little longer to get them set up at the new hospital so at the last minute they kept them in the old one after everyone else was transported. All 28 children and 17 staff members, including the two head research doctors, had died. No survivors.

Of course, the intelligence community had a different story. Those kids were part of some kind of enhancement experiment. Rumor had it that some of them were ‘gifted’ with inexplicable abilities. Mutations that set them apart.

Regardless of what was being studied there, the story was that the Black Widow, alone, went in to extract the research that had been obtained and set off a bomb to cover her tracks. No consideration for the lives lost. Even in the underworld, that kind of act made you a pariah.

The fact was it wasn’t just her there, but that truth was buried int he rubble. You also knew there was no fucking way she would have done something like this. Her behavior did make more sense once you knew. It didn’t quell the rage you felt. Did nothing to ease the hurt.

You weren’t hunting her in order to make amends. No, you were far past that. But you wanted the real story. Needed to know what exactly happened that night, what went wrong and why didn’t she trust you, to put it all in context. Then you wanted to punch her in her fucking perfect face.

Being back in the states was strange after so many years away, being in the south, even more so. But it was the skeletal state of New Orleans that hit you the hardest. 

In your mind’s eye, it was still this bursting place filled with a special kind of magic from your childhood. Now… Katrina had ravaged it. Tragedy around every corner. It was horrible and admittedly a great place to disappear.

From the driver's seat of the old Cadillac, you’d stolen you watch as she slips out of the abandoned house just outside of the Quarter. After a few minutes, you’re sure she won’t be back immediately and you sneak in.

The smell of mold is overwhelming and your eyes take a minute to adjust to the haze. Strangely there’s no surveillance equipment, no security measures at all. There’s a feeling hovering in the air that weighs heavily on your shoulders, despair. It’s impossible to know if it’s just the aura the entire city holds as it mourns or if this strand, in particular, belongs to Natasha.

Not trusting the ragged couch you sit in a hard wooden dining chair in the living room and wait for her to return. Thoughts of what you’ll say swirling in your head. 

A couple of hours later you hear stirring at the back of the house. You duck just in time for the bullet to go through the moldering plaster and not your head. Hitting the floor you stick close to the couch. She rounds it and you grab the chair, legs out, pinning her with it, pushing her into the wall.

“Good to see you too, honey,” a word so sweet never sounded so poisonous.

“…Y/N…” her face is a muddle of emotions, surprise the most prominent, and the energy around her is just as muddy.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d remember my name.” Pain rolls off her. Good. “So,” you press her harder hearing the breath hiss from her, “how’s about we catch up?” One more press and you let the chair clatter to the ground.

“Outside though,” you look around, “this place fuckin’ reeks.” Turning on your heel you walk out the way she came and onto the back porch.

Leaning gingerly on a post you pull a pack of cigarettes from your back pocket and light one as you watch her slowly make her way to you. “I honestly don’t want to be here all day so if you could pick up the damn pace that would be excellent.”

Looking down you notice a brown paper bag, she must have left it there before coming inside. In it is a 40 ounce of malt liquor. You fight the smirk rising to your lips and crack it open, letting the familiar taste roll over your tongue. 

She stands in the doorway staring at you. Even though she looks like she’s been through hell, she’s still the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. That fact makes you all the more bitter and re-ups your desire to punch her. You slug back more of the 40.

Silence hangs, “I really hope you don’t intend to make me ask,” you spit.

Her mouth opens but nothing comes out. Promptly she closes it again and looks away, the silence almost as heavy as the humid air.

Taking a long drag on your cigarette smoke curls out as you speak, “Should I be flattered that I seem to be the only one who can render the great Black Widow speechless?” She still says nothing.

You flick ash from your cigarette and cross your arms across your chest, “See,” you take a quick drink, “you either think I’m too stupid to have figured out what happened that night and thought running out would cover your ass.” Her shoulders droop and she leans her back against the door frame facing away from you. “Or you gave me an ounce of credit and knew I’d find out but thought I’d blame you.” Her head hangs to her chest, distress visible.

“I don’t know which one pisses me off more.” Your voice is sharp-edged despite your soft accent. Now she turns her gaze to you, looking like a kicked dog rather than the exceptional woman she is. Somehow this tips you over the edge from petty to enraged.

“Stop it,” you growl. Confusion flits across her features. Flicking the cigarette away and tossing the 40 to the side, glass shattering on the edge of the porch, you move to face her, “You don’t get to stand there looking defeated and heartbroken when you’re the one who left me.” Her eyes glitter with tears, “Stop.”

“It’s not just about you ya know,” her expression is bitter. Logically you know she’s right. Kids died. It was a tragedy. But right now you’re in the mood to be selfish.

“Yeah, it was a fuckin’ horrible thing. And you thought I wouldn’t understand that it wasn’t your fault. That I didn’t know you, love you, enough to know.” You really thought you could keep it together but you can already feel the tears burn on the back of your eyes, the hurt like a hole in your chest.

Shaking your head you turn away from her and stomp down the porch stairs, refusing to show weakness. “Just fuck you, Natasha.”

“Y/N,” you hear her head down the stairs.

“What?!” You spin, blood boiling. “You left me there! You left. You don’t do that to someone you love!” You’re screaming, composure shattering. All this time you had kept it together. Even the night of you hadn’t shed one tear. Now, looking at this woman you would have given anything for it’s all pouring from you.

“I’m-“

“If you say you’re sorry I swear I’ll kill you where you stand.” She stops walking toward you and stands with her hands up.

“You know,” you turn away again, looking up at the purple evening sky, and run a hand over your face. It comes away moist. “The most fucked up part about it is that… if you had done it, if you had killed those kids,” you turn to her, “I would’ve forgiven you.”

Bitterly you laugh, “I didn’t need to know that about myself but here we are.” Slowly she lowers her hands and looks away. “But I know you didn’t.”

“Does it matter?” Her voice is barely a whisper. “I was there,” when her eyes meet yours you almost wish she had shot you in the head earlier. “I was there and I didn’t stop it… I tried but…”

“Tell me what happened, you owe me that much.”

Natasha turns toward the house and collapses onto the porch stairs, head in her hands. You follow her, staying on your feet, arms crossed looking down.

“I... it won’t change anything...” Her voice is on the brink of tears. You sigh and turn to walk away, then she speaks and you turn back.

“It was all going fine, taking longer than we anticipated but overall fine. Kat and I got the doctors to the old facility, got their research… It was bad like you thought… I should have listened to you…” Her eyes are glued to the ground. It takes a lot of control for you to not make a petty remark but you reel it in.

She takes a shaky breath, “She told me she’d been cleared to level the building. Best way to ensure no one else got the intel. I thought it was extreme but didn’t really give a damn.” Pausing she straightens a bit, composing herself, “She planted the explosives earlier, I didn’t know where they were. I was about to put my doctor down and she said she’d set them off we had five minutes…”

Now she looks at you, gaze distant, “He said, ‘The children,’ we didn’t know what he meant. He blubbers out that they had delayed their transfer, too many eyes on the new hospital, the children were in the basement ward… I froze.”

Her voice shakes, “Kat shot him before I could get anything else out of him. Said we needed to get the fuck out or we were going down with the building. Didn’t give a fuck that there were kids there. Just said it was unfortunate but we had orders… cunt.” She kicks a pebble with her boot, “When she ran out I followed her and stopped her. Tried to get her to reset it. Said she couldn’t. We fought. I killed her. And…”

“The building blew.”

She nods, “And those innocent kids died. Here I am though.” It played out about how you had figured it did. That isn’t really the part you need to hear.

“What part of that did you think I wouldn’t understand?” Once again she looks away, unable to answer. You’re done. “Really? Natasha!” Nothing. “Look at me!”

“Just... go...”

“Whatever,” you storm off heart thundering in your ears but you refuse to look back and she doesn’t follow you.

This is why love wasn’t something you ever wanted. Was she anyone else you could have just moved on. But no. You thought she could give you some kind of answers… no… you thought she’d breakdown and apologize, tell you she was so sorry and beg to have you back. Stupid. You promise yourself you won’t get caught in a spiders web again.

There’s nothing in the shitty Cadillac so you leave it and head straight to Bourbon Street on foot. New Orleans was a pretty great city to be heartbroken in after all.

By the time it’s full dark out you’re lit. Intoxicated not only on booze but the Dionysian haze that engulfs the whole area.

By 3am you’re numb as you stumble to your hotel dreaming of the sweet nothingness of sleep. When the door swings open you stumble back, the wave of emotion obliterating your fragile equilibrium.

It takes a second for your brain to sort what's happening. When you see her green eyes inches from your face, it's sobering.

Every single emotion crackling off of her is hitting you with the force of a baseball bat to the brain. She not moving just standing there, hands up as if she’s concerned you’re going to fall. Maybe you look like you are.

Some part of you is enraged that she would invade your space like this, assume she has some kind of right to seek you out after everything. Momentarily you consider punching her instead you pull her to you pressing your lips to hers.

Electric would be an understatement. You’re on fire as she returns your kiss with just as much hunger. Even so, you feel your heart breaking, tears burning on the back of your eyes. This mix of rage, heartbreak, and love swirling in your chest like a hurricane.

Natasha pulls back gasping, hand over her own chest. Her eyes are brimming, “I feel…” her other hand lays over your own heart. Her brows knit, eyes squeezing shut, “God…” She breathes out. Are your emotions that out of your control? You don’t care.

Moving her hand from your chest you push her into the wall pinning her hand above her head, the other stuck between your bodies. Her eyes bore into yours before you kiss her again, your tongue sliding past her lips tasting her for the first time in what feels like forever.

In truth, you don’t know if you want to love her or break her. Maybe both. Your free hand curls loosely around her throat as you break the kiss. A coy grin lifts those perfect lips. Her other hand free she slides it down the front of your jeans and your body presses closer, wanting her despite everything.

“We never did finish that night did we?” She hums out in that honeyed voice of hers. Your upper lip ticks up in something like a snarl and you pull away walking to the other side of the room to press your head against the cool plaster hoping it would clear your head.

“Don’t you want me?” She breathes. When you look back her shirt is gone leaving her bare from the waist up and your breath catches. Fuck. You did.

As you saunter back to her those eyes catch fire, “I kne-“

Immediately you grab her once more by the neck, “Don’t speak,” you growl. Because you may be aching for her, every cell of your body begging for her but the sound of her voice makes more than your body ache. Your heart is begging for more and you won’t give it that. Not again. But you could have her, even just one more time.

Natasha nods before breaking your grip and sweeping your feet from under you. It’s a jarring position change at any point, when you’re drunk it’s even more unsettling to be suddenly staring at the ceiling. A bit of breath is knocked from you. When she stands over you, one leg on either side, slowly sliding down the zipper of her tac pants, you’re panting for a different reason.

The look on her face seems to scream You always like being on your back for me. And dammit if she wasn’t right. She kicks free of the pants and lowers to you, her knees flanking your face. The thundering of your heart in your ears almost drowns out the sound of pleasure she makes as you lift your face a bit to flick your tongue over her cunt. Almost.

Your hands grab her ass from behind and you suck at her. Her hips grind a bit before she leans back, hands deftly sliding your zipper down. The feeling of her skilled fingers over your clit makes you cry out, hips bucking up begging for more.

She continues to masterfully work you, pressing and stroking until you feel like you’re going to explode. All while your mouth creates magic. Tongue flitting, teeth nipping, reveling in the taste of her. When you both come at the same time it feels like she never left. Safety, pleasure, love, and lust all rushing over you both in wave after wave in time with your cries.

Falling to the side she repositions and kisses you licking her own moisture off your lips purring with pleasure. Scooting down she undoes each of your boots and slides your denim over your hips. As she pulls you toward the bed you shed your top.

Neither of you says a word for the rest of the night as you fuck the other into oblivion.  

[wandlores]

High Alert

Pairing: Narcissa Black x Lily Evans Words: 2,489 You can also read this on AO3. This is a Muggle AU for @lillyevans who requested this pairing and for the @slytherdornet and @hprarepairnet Spring Challenge! I based it off of this prompt, and warning: there is some implied smut in this. If you’re into that sort of thing.

It was Lily's Spring Break, which meant she was going to go on a her annual road-trip with her best friend Andi. This time, they were going to visit potential graduate school's for Lily to finish up her medical degree. Lily was extremely excited, but she needed the support of her best friend; this soon-to-be new school journey was nerve-wracking for her. So as she pulled up to Andi's house, she was confused and pissed to see Narcissa Black standing at the end of Andi's driveway with her rolling suitcase.

Lily rolled down the window as she pulled up and stopped her SUV, "Is there a reason you're here? Where's Andi?"

"Andromeda asked me to give you this," Narcissa explained as she opened the door of her SUV and slipped into the passenger seat, "And could you please turn on the AC? It is boiling in here."

Annoyed, Lily unfolded the wrinkled up piece of paper. She recognized Andi's handwriting instantly.  

Lils,

I'm so sorry I'm not able to come with you on our annual road trip this year. I would have called, but I dropped my phone in the toilet as I was arguing with Cissa this morning and she refused to let me use her phone. Ted has appendicitis and really needs me to be with him in the hospital. Don't worry, all is going to be okay. I know Cissa can be a bitch, but she is a good travel companion. I promise. Maybe you'll even become good friends. I'll see you when you get back. I'll make it up to you.

Love,

Andi

Groaning, Lily crumpled up her friend's letter and threw it into her cupholder.

"I don't need you to come with me," Lily told Narcissa, "I can go by myself. I'm just looking at universities anyway, and no offense, but you're the last person I want to come with me as I decide on my future path."

Narcissa snorted as she turned on the AC herself, "I never thought you'd be such an asshole. Aren't you supposed to be a Saint or something?"

Lily smiled sarcastically and replied, "Well, you know what they say: it takes a bitch to know a bitch."

Narcissa rolled her eyes and propped her feet on Lily's dash.

"Could you at least put your feet down?"

Narcissa ignored her, and that's when Lily realized she had no choice. Narcissa was coming with her whether she liked it or not. So she started her SUV and they were on their way.

It took an hour on the freeway before either of them said a word. Lily could no longer handle the silence, and besides, she hated seeing Narcissa touch-up her makeup from the corner of her eye.

"Is it really necessary to look runway perfect?" Lily asked her, "We are going to be in the car for like three days straight. Who is going to see you?"

"You're so naive," Narcissa drawled, "We'll have stops."

"At gas stations," Lily muttered.

Narcissa ignored her as she applied the last of her lipstick and shut her compact mirror.

"When you're as gorgeous as me," Narcissa told her, "You have to keep it up for reputation sake. You never know who you'll run into on the road."

"I thought it was supposed to be effortless to be as gorgeous as you?"

Narcissa rolled her eyes again. Lily knew it was her favorite facial expression. She had seen her roll her eyes at her for years.

"You don't know anything, Evans."

"Oh?" Lily prodded, "Enlighten me, Narcissa. I'd love to hear what you have to say."

But instead of snarking back at Lily, Narcissa leaned forward to turn up the stereo. Lily took that as the cue she was done talking for at least another hour.

When they made it to the first motel, Lily insisted she would pay for Narcissa to have her own room, but Narcissa insisted they share a room so she knew she wouldn't be murdered in the night. This was the moment she was reminded that Narcissa was nothing like her sister. If where they were staying was not a five star hotel, she would not be pleased, and that meant she would make Lily's whole evening a living hell until she got her way. Luckily enough for Lily, she wasn't the type to give in, and Narcissa would have to suck it up. And besides, Lily liked watching Narcissa suffer from her own ego.

Narcissa slammed the door of their room and groaned as she fell back on the bed closest to the bathroom.

"I cannot believe you legitimately chose a Motel 6. I thought you were joking."

"If we are going to be on the road for a week and have to pay for gas, we are staying at the cheapest hotels possible. Unless you'd rather sleep in my SUV?"

Narcissa huffed, "I suppose this will do then."

Surprised, Lily perked up her brow, "You're giving in this easily? I'm surprised. You have always been the one to put up a fight to make sure you reach your perfect standards."

Narcissa glared at her, "What makes me think you even know me that well? Yeah, you're best friends with my sister. So what?"

"Narcissa, I have known you for years."

"You've known my sister persona, not the real me."

"Well, your sister persona tells me who you really are deep down."

Lily didn't realize she had sat next to Narcissa on her chosen bed until Narcissa sat up so their faces were close together. Lily tried to swallow but failed. For the first time in her life, she actually felt speechless. Narcissa was beautiful, but she always avoided thinking about it. She was Andi's little sister and practically Madame Satan. There was no way she was going to-

It was as though Narcissa could read her mind, because a wicked grin spread across her face as she glanced down at Lily's lips.

"You don't know me deep down, Evans, but you really want to," she whispered.

Lily blinked a few times and watched as Narcissa stood up and took off her shirt. This left Lily staring at her lacy pink bra while trying to look away.

"I'm going to shower," Narcissa told her, "If you want to get to know me, you could always join me."

Lily gasped, and before she could reply, Narcissa smirked at her as she shut the bathroom door.

Lily pretended to be asleep in her own bed when Narcissa came out of the shower, but her senses were on high alert. The worst part about it was, she realized she had wanted to know who Narcissa was deep down for a long time. She just didn't want to admit it to herself.

She didn't talk to Narcissa the next morning as she got up and made her coffee. Narcissa didn't push her either. She just packed up her things and started loading up the car. Lily was surprised she was even helping, but maybe she felt bad about last night. She probably figured it made her uncomfortable, or Narcissa was just a bitch and playing with Lily's very obvious bisexuality. Either way, Narcissa was a bitch, even if she was trying to help. Nothing would change Lily's mind.

After Lily returned their room keys to the front office, she slipped into the driver's seat with Narcissa already waiting for her. She was playing on her phone and blowing a bubble with bubble gum. Lily watched her lips as they puckered to blow the next bubble. Narcissa must of felt her staring, because she turned her head towards her and stopped attempting to blow a bubble. Instead, she slid the gum back in her mouth and smiled.

"Like what you see?" Narcissa teased, "I could always share."

Narcissa leaned across the middle console towards Lily, and Lily instinctively leaned back from her.

"Is my bisexuality a joke to you?" Lily asked her angrily, "I get that I am out to the world now, but you don't need to use that information to mock me and be a bitch."

Lily was surprised to see Narcissa's face turn sincere as she leaned back into her own seat, "Lily, I know I'm a bitch when I want to be, but I would never-"

She avoided Lily's eyes and didn't continue her speech. It was then Lily realized Narcissa had teased her for years for a reason, she was attracted to her, and most likely jealous that she gave her sister all her attention.

"You don't need to say any more," Lily told her quietly, "If-if you think there is something going on with me and Andi, it has never been like that. She is straight and she likes-"

"I know she loves Ted," Narcissa spoke up, "I didn't think that."

Lily nodded to no one in particular as she started her SUV. Narcissa didn't say any more, and Lily backed out of the Motel 6 parking lot wondering where this trip would really lead them.  

They reached the first university Lily was interested in the next day. They had hardly spoken. Narcissa was glued to her phone and Lily was too awkward to say anything more.

When they got out of her car to walk around campus, Narcissa flipped her hair over her shoulder and spoke for the first time in hours, "Do you think there are going to be any cute girls here? I could use a hook-up."

As if it was instinctual, Lily rolled her eyes. It was the first time that her recent suspicions about Narcissa's sexuality had been affirmed, but she couldn't help herself.

"I'm sure there are going to be very cute girls here," Lily told her, "But we aren't here for a booty call."

Narcissa bumped Lily's shoulder as they walked side by side playfully, "Oh Evans, you're just jealous I might want to get in someone's pants other than yours."

Lily stopped in her tracks as Narcissa continued walking. She smiled at a girl ahead of them, and Lily could actually feel the jealousy hit her. Narcissa was now playing a game, and Lily was determined to win.

The campus tour went painstakingly slow, especially when Lily could only focus on Narcissa flirting with the girl she was smiling at earlier. To add to Lily's earlier jealous streak, the girl had to be a part of their tour group and was also trying to get into the medical program. The universe had a horrible sense of humor.

Her name was Marlene, and she was as blonde as Narcissa and just as gorgeous. Lily watched as Narcissa flipped her hair and basically eye-fucked the girl. For once, her eyes were truly green with envy. She knew Narcissa was aware as well, because she would glance over at Lily frequently and give her a smirk.

"Miss Evans?" The tour guide's voice spoke up, "Are you still with us?"

It was then she realized they had made it to the end of the tour. Lily knew she retained none of the information that was said throughout it, and the tour guide probably noticed as she stood by a picnic table as everyone else went to get end of tour refreshments. She tried to get herself together and smiled at the tour guide.

"Yes, I'm fine," she lied, "I was just.. thinking."

The tour guide nodded and looked at her like she was crazy as he walked away. She could scratch this university off of her list of possibilities.

Now that she was aware of her surroundings, Lily was again drawn to find Narcissa. She was laughing with Marlene and leaning forward to touch her thigh. They were drinking sodas at the picnic table farthest away from the group. Lily couldn't take it anymore as she walked up and approached them. Impulsively, she grabbed Narcissa's hand and pulled her up from her seat. She could see from the corner of her eye that Marlene was looking up at them with a confused expression, but Narcissa didn't seem surprised at all. This just infuriated Lily more, so she did the only thing she could think to do. She kissed her.

Soon enough, Narcissa reciprocated the kiss and her hand went up her back until it was cupping the back of her neck. Lily moaned softly, and as Narcissa pulled away, she was breathless. Marlene was still sitting at the picnic table awkwardly, so Narcissa told her, "You can go now. I'm done with you."

Pissed, Marlene gasped and was clearly exasperated. She ran away from them and away from the tour group, and it was then Lily thought she had the right idea.

"Let's get out of here," Lily whispered into Narcissa's ear.

Narcissa looked down at her and grinned, "Your wish is my command."

They fumbled with their new room keys as they tried to open the door, but once it was finally open, Lily pulled Narcissa inside and slammed the door shut with her foot. She lifted her shirt over her head to reveal her black bra and Narcissa looked at her breathlessly before she kissed her again.

Lily pushed Narcissa down on the bed and straddled her hips; Narcissa moaned as she kissed her neck.

Breathlessly, Narcissa told her, "I have been waiting for this for years."

Lily smiled against her neck and lifted her head up to look into Narcissa's blue eyes, "Me too," Lily told her, "I just didn't know it. I guess I wasn't digging deep enough. Until now."

With a flirtatious grin, Lily kissed her way down Narcissa's body until she reached the top seam of her panties. She could feel Narcissa shaking beneath her with anticipation.

"Don't stop," Narcissa encouraged her, "Dig deeper."

And that's what Lily did.

The rest of their road trip contained of many stops at Motel 6's and empty college lecture halls. Lily now knew Narcissa better than she ever expected to, and as they drove back home with their hands intertwined, Lily felt she had to ask Narcissa a question.

"Is this why you wouldn't let Andi use your phone to call me after her's fell in the toilet? Was this your plan all along?"

Narcissa smirked, "What if I told you Andromeda was in on the plan?"

Lily was about to respond as they pulled into Narcissa's driveway, but that's when she saw Andromeda waiting for them while fashioning a devilish grin.

She should of known. After-all, Andromeda was Narcissa's sister.

"You are clever," Lily told Narcissa, "I'll give you that. Would it be bad if I said your plan now is a huge turn-on?"

"It actually wasn't a plan. It was a bet, and I won."

And with Andromeda watching so she knew that she lost their bet, Narcissa kissed Lily. It takes a bitch to know a bitch. Lily just liked how Narcissa played this game.

[signutai]

wonzon....19? :}

So! I guess this’ll be, like...a tiny next-day continuation of Lonely Places, Lonely People, so it might be just a lil confusing for folks who haven’t read that. Which, if you’re following me, I really hope you have.(Warning for minor descriptions of injuries. Cut for length, not content.)

Cross-posted to AO3 here!

[kariachi]

New commissionwork for @thenixkat, this time a werewolfy, magicky Static Shock fic, with a side of Wonder Woman. Word count ~10k.

Warnings for gore, kidnapping, and technically mind control apply.

Stepping off the bus into the early autumn chill she could feel the state sink into her flesh like a million needles, feel it shifting beneath her feet, and her first instinct was to run. To turn around, climb back aboard, continue on to someplace more, hospitable.

That wasn’t an option.

Nothing had gone to plan thanks to that damn ‘hero’, breaking into her lair, ruining everything. She’d been so close and what did she have left? She’d been forced to burn through Louhi, the spellwork needed and her emergency teleport leaving her a literal husk of her former self, now nestled in her bag. She had no lair, and had only been able to fill one bag with supplies before she ran.

And now she was here, in the last place anyone would think to look for a magic user. The state was unforgiving, and wrong, but she wouldn’t be long, she swore. All she needed was to recreate and finish the ritual.

She might even be kind enough to make Dakota right when she was done.

~~

Two Months Later

~~

~~

There’s a person outside, circling the property line and eyeing up the house. He wants to say something, do something, but the way his mother’s bristled, the way she’s moved between him and the window… Something says to stay quiet.

~~

This is the third time the strange figure that isn’t right has shown up, and his father’s taken his gun with him to confront them. Something in him bristles, says to lay low.

~~

When has he ever been this hungry…

~~

~~

“Really, Virg, thanks for staying the night. Mom doesn’t want me home alone right now.”

“You’re doing me a favor, man. Gravitas saved the owner of one of those foreign groceries the other day and he gave her something called ‘seamu’? So I’m more than happy to hang out here and order a pizza.”

“You sure? Seamu’s actually pretty good.” The incredulous look that crossed Virgil’s face, like Richie’d just suggested he try flea stew, left the other teen shrugging as he plopped down on his bed. “Viking stuff. Grandma sometimes imports it from the old country.”

“Yeaaah.” Virgil shook his head, tossing his bag to a spot next to Richie’s desk and flopping down beside him. While his friend essentially half-lived at his house- the boy had his own shampoo there for fuck’s sake- Virgil was still working on building his own stock at the Foley home. It would never be the same ‘practically dual-custody’ arrangement, but fair was fair. “You guys can keep your weird Norse birds, thanks.” With another rolling shrug Richie fell back so they were laid side by side.

“Sharon’s probably messing it up anyway. It is good though.”

“Richie, I’ve seen you eat, your word means nothing here.” Ignoring the raspberry blown at him, Virgil lifted himself on his elbows and looked down at Richie quizzically. “Why’d you want to stay the night here, anyway?” Turning over onto his side, Richie’s eyes flicked to the window before he ducked his head conspiratorially.

“Someone’s been skulking around the house lately.”

“Wait what?!” Virgil tensed, instinctively tasting for the electricity that ran through the walls as Richie nodded.

“They don’t come onto the property or anything,” he said, “but they like, circle it, like they’re sizing it up.”

“So, what, you think they’re gonna try to break in?”

“I don’t know, things have been weird. Like, the security cameras and what we see don’t match up, and I think Dad might see something different from what me and Mom see.”

“That’s… that’s creepy, man.” Worrying his cheek, Virgil sat up properly. Richie mirrored him. “Can you be more specific?”

“Like, the other night, they went passed the house and Dad made a comment about them trying to pass themselves off as some random person walking their dog, but when I looked, there wasn’t any dog anywhere, and Mom looked as confused as me. He went out to confront them, but apparently they just, vanished.” As he spoke BackPack climbed onto the bed and nestled into his owner’s lap, laying his retractable ‘eye’ across Richie’s shoulder in what was either a comforting or protective manner. It was hard to tell when you weren’t Richie. “Dad’s cop buddies have been coming by the neighborhood periodically, but they haven’t seen anything.”

“I can see why your mom didn’t want you here alone,” Virgil said, absently patting Backpack as Richie stroked the machine.

“Yeah. She wanted me to stay at your place, since Dad’s on the night shift tonight and she’s working late, but…”

“But then she’d be here alone.” Virgil nodded, stomach knotting at the worry that was blossoming on Richie’s face. “A Bang Baby maybe?”

“Maybe.” With a tiny laugh Richie grinned. “That or a ghost.”

“The soul of a seamu,” Virgil added, with a chuckle of his own, “come to punish your family for eating them all these centuries.”

“I’ll ask Gran about dispelling dinner ghosts in my next letter.” A deep sigh. “I haven’t seen my parents this worried ever. Mom’s even been talking about sending me to Cousin Gina’s ‘early’ when they think I’m not listening, whatever that’s supposed to mean.” Leaning forward, Virgil put a hand by BackPack’s eye.

“And how are you holding up?” Richie’s next laugh was a little darker.

“After that Brainiac thing? It’s gonna take more than some creep to rattle me.” Virgil nodded, sighing himself.

“You should’ve told me ahead of time,” he said, pulling back. “You’re lucky I brought my Static stuff.” Snorting, Richie smirked and raised a brow at him teasingly.

“Dude, half the time you bring that stuff to the bathroom with you.”

“That, is beside the point.”

~~

It wasn’t the longest wait of their short lives, but it damn well felt like it as they sat there by Richie’s open window. There was no real guarantee that the unknown stranger would even show that night, but they had every night for nearly a week (a week, there were going to be Discussions about not telling teammates things) so the odds were in their favor, right? Right. As it was they were fully decked out, hoping Mrs. Foley didn’t come home before the stranger showed up. BackPack sat between them, recording everything he saw and showing it on Richie’s monitor.

If nothing else, they’d have further evidence of what was happening.

Showtime came somewhere around nine, with a hiss between Gear’s clenched teeth and repeated smacking of Static’s arm.

“Man, cool it-”

“That’s them!” Static followed Gear’s gaze, narrowing his eyes at the sight of a human shape walking through the neighbor’s yard, a mid-sized dog trotting along beside them, eyes straight ahead. His first instinct was to pat his partner on the shoulder, reassure him, joke about him being paranoid, but he bit back the impulse. What you saw wasn’t necessarily what was there, the tale of the other night proved as much. He turned to see what BackPack saw, the most reliable view they had.

No dog. Just a figure with a face like bleached bone walking much more slowly passed the house than they had first seemed, gaze locked solidly on the building until it passed their room and pale pink eyes flicked towards Gear and narrowed-

Before he could even form a thought he was out the open window, Saucer under his feet.

“Hey!” The figure didn’t look up that he could see, not even their ‘dog’ reacting to his presence as he flew straight at them, electricity gathering in one hand before everything went black, breath not even catching in his throat, more like it’d been yanked back down into his lungs.

“Static!” When the world came back into view the hero was hovering only a foot off the ground, greedily sucking in air. Gear’s hand on his arm was welcome, as was his worried checking of him. Behind them, he could hear BackPack pacing the roof, probably standing guard. “Are you okay? You just, dropped!” Slowly Static nodded, reaching out to clap a hand on Gear’s shoulder, eyes on the empty space the mysterious figure had occupied.

“We’re calling the girls.”

~~

“Richard Foley, we understand you’ve got your iffy moral stuff going on, and family crap you can’t talk about, but if you ever keep something like this a secret again I will dig a basement just to lock you in it for your own safety!”

“Yes ma’am.”

The rest of the night had passed without incident. Virgil had been woken up by a truly awful smell at one point, but that was all of note until they’d woken up the next morning and begun calling the rest of the team over a truly massive breakfast.

Turned out there wasn’t much that got everyone moving quite like the words ‘someone might be stalking Richie’. As it was they’d had the whole band together in the Abandoned Gas Station of Solitude by eight, and the past two hours had been spent grilling Richie for every detail ever and watching the security footage highlight reel on repeat.

The figure hadn’t even looked at Static until he was practically on top of them, and had waved their hand before he fell, just as Richie said, straight down out of the sky. After that they’d just, not been there. Nobody could really figure out how to describe it. All they knew was that they’d been there one frame and the next, nothing. Which certainly wasn’t helping the mood of a room that had, en masse, leaned protectively towards their blond when the figure’s eyes had locked on him. And when they’d done whatever it was they did to Static? Sharon had immediately all-but suction cupped herself to her brother in exactly the same manner he’d suctioned cupped himself to Richie.

It would’ve had to be a force of nature that dared try to bypass the sheer force of the Over My Dead Body emanating from that side of the room.

“Do we have any idea who that was?” Frieda asked, collapsing into a chair like she was made of putty. “Any clue at all?”

“I’ve never seen them outside of the whole, ya know, creeping around thing,” Richie said while the Hawkins siblings shook their heads.

“Haven’t found them on any databases yet,” Daisy said from her spot at one of the many, many computers that were- between her and the boys- beginning to take over their hideout. “Not even any maybes.”

“So, we have an unknown person stalking the Foley’s,” Sharon said, arms crossed tightly over her chest as she hovered- literally- behind the boys. “Well, I’m not risking it, who’s taking what guard shift?” For a moment it looked like Richie was going to argue that guard shifts were possibly overkill before Virgil placed a hand over his mouth.

“Rich, you have been kidnapped more than all the rest of us combined. And I’m counting the giant amoeba thing.” A ball of paper wafted across the room to collide with the back of his head.

“We’re not having it happen again when we have forewarning this time,” Frieda added, and BackPack whirred in agreement.

“Whose side are you on,” Richie muttered to the machine, but smiled at the others anyway. “Thanks guys.” Spinning her chair to face him, Daisy grinned reassuringly.

“We’ll figure out who this is and what they want,” she said, “don’t worry.” Her gaze swept the rest of the group. “I can take the ten to one shift.”

~~

Oh, she’d known this would happen eventually, with her targeting one of Dakota’s little ‘heroes’. A part of her that sounded suspiciously like Louhi had said she could still go back, change tack and grab one of those Bang Babies nobody wanted. There were a few that met her needs- Spaulding could’ve been brought to heel, and Stone, even the Hawkins boy from the night before, both would be grand for her purposes. But this one was perfect and soon the veils would part, it was better than she could dream, and she’d had every intention of having control before any of his little friends noticed anything afoot.

Damn Dakota, always making things difficult.

It poked and prodded at her, tendrils of it’s power sliding along the fibers of her magic. Plucking strings that sent a jot of fear down her spine. The longer she stayed the more it went from curious to passive-aggressive, the state miring her down like swamp mud and covering it’s citizens like the first snow. She had been upping and upping her game this past week and to her knowledge there had been no change beyond the boy eating more.

And now, now he had bodyguards.

She was done, this was happening tonight if she had to tear off his skin and force him to wear it.

Kicking over a carved pumpkin on her way passed a neighboring house (another thing this place wouldn’t let her do, her transportation spells flickered and died in her throat, refused to touch Dakota air, and this was as close as she could get in the layer below) she headed for the spot she’d taken last night. It wasn’t as close as those she’d used before, farther away to be harder to spot, but it was near enough and should work with what she had in mind.

No more careful portioning, no rationing, she had scaled the recipe up as far as she possibly could. Her entire supply of onyx powder was in the large container she pulled out of her satchel, already mixed with tomato seed oil and ready to go. Dried licorice and valerian soaking it up. A package of hay to act as kindling. The strike of a match.

Thick black smoke rose from the flames, fading into octarine as it drifted against the wind, settling over the Foley house. The girl on the roof slowly fell over sideways as it drifted in through open windows and cracks in doorframes. This would do it.

It had to.

~~

~~

He wakes up in the dead of night to growing fur and long, long limbs.

It itches. It feels right and weird and it itches, even after he’s brought up a foot to scratch at it. To scratch everywhere, because it is everywhere and seemingly endless. With a grumble he rolls off his back and onto his feet, yawning with a mouth that’s longer and longer and longer. He twists around with a quiet whine and uses it to snap and pull at the fabric covering his hindquarters- it was comfortable once, he remembers, but now is too tight too tight around his rump and he’s happy when it rips enough for his tail come through and continue to grow. So much better. Now he’s free to streeeeeetch as the itching slowly stops, shake free of the tatters left behind, and listen to the call coming along the frigid autumn air.

Come.

Be good.

Ignoring the little machine’s whirs of concern, he licks BackPack affectionately before loping out the open window.

~~

~~

The first thing Frieda was aware of was frantic poking and prodding at her shoulders, arms, face. Prodding that only disappeared after she called up a gust of wind to blow whatever it was away. It wasn’t gone for long though, quickly returning even more frantic than before, finally forcing her to blearily open her eyes.

She was still on the Foley’s roof, right where she was supposed to be, but BackPack was in front of her, all flashing lights and distressed whirring and chirps.

“BackPack. BackPack,” she reached out to push down on the machine, stopping his frantic scurry across the shingles, “what’s wrong?” With a whir that somehow managed to be even more distressed than those that came before, BackPack slipped out from under her hand and bolted for the edge of the roof near Richie’s room. Her gut twisted. Cautiously she called the wind to pick her up and carry her to the open window. She was tense and ready for a fight as she checked inside, but still her stomach dropped out of her and her heartrate skyrocketed.

“Fuck!”

~~

“Don’t tell Virgil, but I lost Richie.”

“You what?!” Frieda cringed as a voice that distinctly wasn’t Sharon’s came over the shockvox. Muffled at first, but clearer following the sounds of a brief scuffle. “What do you mean you lost Richie?!”

“He isn’t here!” She hissed, careful not to raise her voice, not to wake up Mr. and Mrs. Foley still inside. “I don’t know what happened!”

“You don’t know what-” Another scuffle and Sharon’s voice returned.

“Details, Frieda.” She almost stopped in her pacing back and forth on the Foley’s roof, but instead found herself pausing just long enough for a deep breath before falling back in step beside BackPack.

“I was standing guard, and there was this nasty smell, and then suddenly the next thing I know BackPack is shaking me awake and Richie is gone.” She still reeked. Virgil was struggling on the other end, she could hear it and practically see Sharon with a hand clamped over his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t.” Sharon’s voice was pinched, clearly panicking same as she and Virgil are, but age and experience were keeping her together. “It’s not your fault. We’ll find him.”

“We don’t even-”

“We’ll. Find. Him.”

 ~~

They had no leads was the problem. Every other time Richie had been kidnapped the whys and hows had been pretty fucking obvious. It was more a matter of actually tracking him down, which only ever took as long as it did because Dakota had more abandoned buildings than it did people. But this time… They didn’t know who they were dealing with. They didn’t know what they wanted Richie for. How much danger he was in.

At least if it was Ebon again they’d know he was bait, for all they knew right now he was being sold on the black market.

“I really doubt that,” Ultraviolet said somewhere around dawn, several hours into the team’s search for any clue at all. BackPack had recorded none of what happened in Richie’s room, if he’d even been active at the time. They didn’t even know when between two and three the boy had been stolen.

“It does happen,” Gravitas said. Ultraviolet shook her head.

“Not in Dakota though. Have you seen the statistics for that stuff? People’ll be kidnapped for trafficking, but they always escape one way or another. I once read that a few years back some guys were trying to take a girl across state lines and not only did their car break down, but then they were trampled by water buffalo.” The team froze and turned, as one, to stare at her slack-jawed. It was Static that spoke up.

“West end?”

“East, in the mountains.” Silence. Hurricane slowly shook her head and went to sit on a random porch, mindlessly throwing a breeze back and forth to move a jaunty skeleton decoration. Gravitas made a gesture of surrender.

“Only in this state.”

“Okay,” Static said, “so we know that’s not a problem. Doesn’t narrow much down though.”

“No.” Sighing, Ultraviolet worried her lip. No tracks, no signs of struggle, no sign of that mysterious figure. They were hitting a dead end. “We’re just going to have to keep looking. He has to be somewhere.”

~~

~~

The collar around his throat itches but it’s easy to ignore in favor of the smells and sounds of this city that is his. Smoke, oil, sweat, engines, music, yelling, meat meat meat sound and smell all around him and hunger thudding like a heartbeat through his veins-

He hunts. Leisurely, moving at an easy trot through the alleys and backstreets of the city, nose held high to track these many many scents. He’s so hungry, more than he’s ever been in his life, and all he needs, all he wants, is a good target…

There. A barking little beastie, chained to a fence and straining at him, teeth bared. At another time, in another shape, he may have backed away from sharp teeth and aggression he can smell in the air, but here and now all he sees is meat. A leap longer than the pit expected, jaws around its muzzle, a single good whip of his head, and there’s silence.

Breakfast.

~~

~~

Eventually, they’d been forced to split up. Ultraviolet and Gravitas had taken BackPack back to the Gas Station of Solitude with the goal of finding something, anything, to tie back to the mysterious figure they all knew was behind this, while Static and Hurricane continued the search of the city.

It was ten am, at least seven hours following Richie’s disappearance. They’d each of them fielded calls from a frantic Mrs. Foley. The police were getting involved.

There were still no damn leads.

“Well,” Hurricane said as soon as the door opened, “I had to stop Static dropping Kangor from a flagpole, so that was something.”

“Look,” said hero responded, following close behind her, “if he hadn’t tried being coy we wouldn’t have had problems!” It said something about how he was feeling about the whole situation that he immediately plopped down beside his sister, barely an inch between them.

“So,” she said, “ended up just interrogating everybody?”

“It’s not like we had anything else to go with,” Static said, “may as well ask around the Bang Baby scene.”

“We didn’t try everyone,” Hurricane added. “We figured if this person were involved with Ebon’s crew we’d have heard something by now, same with Puff and Onyx.”

“And Madelyn’s not this subtle,” Ultraviolet said. The others nodded.

“Exactly.” Sighing, Hurricane leaned against Ultraviolet’s desk. “But nobody knew anything, at least anything we could get out of them.”

“And we’ve found exactly jack shit,” Gravitas said with a groan, head falling back against the ratty couch she and her brother occupied. “Fantastic. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

“We just need one lead,” Static said, mirroring his sister and reaching up to pat BackPack when he climbed into his lap. “Just one, that’s all we’re asking!”

True to all rules of thematic timing, there came a knock.

The room went quiet as the heroes went tense, eyes darting between each other and the door. There weren’t exactly that many people who knew where to find them, and even fewer who bothered to knock. Under the best of circumstances they would’ve been on guard, and these were certainly not the best of circumstances. Patting Static’s shoulder, Gravitas stood slowly and made her way cautiously towards the door- probably for the best, given she was the oldest and along with Hurricane was the one most capable to turning the tide on a sudden attacker. The door opened with the loudest creak in the history of the world, Gravitas’s eyes blowing wide when she saw what was outside.

“Good morning,” Wonder Woman said, slipping into the doorway, “may I come in?”

~~

Nobody from the League had gotten the kind of welcome Wonder Woman got, which was all on the women. Static certainly hadn’t ever considered offering Batman a soda. But then, that was Batman, who probably didn’t even need to eat, thriving off sheer justice, and this was Wonder Woman, who’d gladly accepted not only his seat on the couch but also a coke and a handful of the fun size candies he and Gravitas kept sneaking from the community center. Because that’s what you did with free bowls of candy, no matter who you were. As it was, she had the full attention of the whole team, including the girls’ hearts from the looks of it- if there were any more stars in Gravitas’s eyes he’d have been calling Adam with a warning- leaving BackPack to do the fifth trawl of the many, many, many files they’d found and gotten into all on his lonesome.

“So,” Ultraviolet said, two fun-size snickers into the visit, “I’m going to guess this isn’t a social call?”

“Unfortunately,” Wonder Woman replied, “though I guess we probably ought to do those more often.” She sighed and scanned the group. “I was hoping to get your help with a, situation.” Yep, they’d known it was coming.

“What kind of situation?”

“There’s a witch somewhere in Dakota-”

“In late-October, yeah-”

“A real witch.” There wasn’t even a hint of humor in her tone or expression, but also no judgement for the comment. She took a sip of her soda before continuing. “Normally it wouldn’t be anything to worry about, the vast majority of magic users aren’t any trouble, even the ones from Dakota, but this one…” She shook her head, a sight that had the team all exchanging concerned looks. They didn’t even have information and this sounded bad. Again, it was Gravitas that stepped forward.

“We’d love to help,” she said, “but I’m sure you’ve noticed we’re down a teammate.” Wonder Woman nodded. “Gear vanished from his bed last night in what we’re sure is a kidnapping.”

“Well,” the older hero set her drink down, making solid eye contact with Gravitas, “I’m more than happy to help you find him. We’ll just have to handle more than one situation, perfectly doable.” Everyone was silent for a moment, up until Hurricane sighed, deep and heavy and blowing candy wrappers around the room, and dropped into the spot beside Wonder Woman.

“Fuck it,” she said, “not like we have any leads anyway. Gives us something to do while we figure this out besides worry.”

Well, it wasn’t like she was wrong.

“You first,” Ultraviolet said, leaning back against a desk with her eyes locked on Wonder Woman, “what are we dealing with, with this witch?” Nodding, Wonder Woman picked up her soda and settled back in her seat.

“She goes by Athame,” she began, “she’s, very ambitious. Too ambitious.” The young team, who had all heard that more than a time or two, raised their eyebrows in unison.

“Too am-”

“She wants to create a new source of magic.” Okay, that sounded, something.

“Alright,” Static said, “we may need some more background here.” Wonder Woman nodded again.

“All magic has a single source. There are plenty of items out there that contain magic, or run off of it, but there’s only one source of magic, and even just having it with you is enough to allow people with no magical talent to use difficult spells without issue.”

“Okay,” Ultraviolet nodded, “I can see where that might be dangerous if a skilled witch got a hold of it.” A hollow chuckle from the older hero.

“I wish she wanted to get a hold of it,” she said, “then it would be someone else’s business. What she wants is to make a second one, and she’s come up with a ritual she thinks will do it.”

“Will it?”

“Who knows.” She shrugged. “But we can’t take that risk. The best-case scenario is that the ritual does nothing, but if it fails violently then there’s too much risk of collateral damage with all the power it would need, and that’s not even taking into account it if works.”

“At which point we have someone running around with pretty much unlimited magical power,” Gravitas said, running a hand down her face. This was just, great.

“If the existence of two sources of magic doesn’t just tear reality apart.”

And that was even better.

A mass groan went around the room.

“What about your friend,” Wonder Woman asked, leaning forward probably as much to make sure they knew she was taking all of this seriously as out of actual interest, “what are the details there?” Static, being the first alerted to the situation, stepped forward.

“Some creep’s been stalking around his house the last week,” he said, “not that he bothered to tell anyone until the other day. Why the hell wouldn’t he tell us?”

“Because,” Hurricane butted in, “he’s the stupidest genius we know.” Beside her, Wonder Woman took on a thoughtful look, head bobbing slightly as she clearly tried to work out whether that actually was the stupidest thing she’d seen a supposed genius do. Gravitas, meanwhile, just looked at Static and wobbled her hand in a ‘that’s iffy’ gesture, earning herself a glare.

“Anyway,” Static continued pointedly, “he finally said something the other day and... They’ve clearly got powers of some sort, but this is Dakota, we had to deal with a dandelion with delusions of grandeur just last week, so that’s not really weird around here. What is weird is that we decided to take shifts to guard his house and he still disappeared right out from under us.”

“I’m still not sure what happened,” Hurricane said. “One minute everything was fine, then the next BackPack was waking me up and Gear was gone.” Eyes narrowed, Wonder Woman nodded.

“That is worrying…” Ultraviolet purposefully shoved away from the desk she was leaned against and half-turned towards where BackPack was working his not-quite-Gear-level magic.

“Come on,” she said, “we have video.”

The group moved as one, crowding in around her as she removed BackPack from the computer he was interfacing with. He found a comfortable spot in her lap as she sat down and went about pulling up the video from the night before last. Nothing was different from any other viewing- same too-pale face and eyes, creepy eyeballing of the house, looking directly at their now-missing friend. Same mysterious attack on Static and subsequent disappearance. But there weren’t many eyes for it this time. Instead everyone was focused on Wonder Woman, stood in pride of place directly behind Ultraviolet, watching her take in the event, her eyes going wide. When the screen cut to black, she reached out and put her hand on Ultraviolet’s shoulder.

“Well,” she said, “good news, we only have one situation.”

~

She ought to be happy, overjoyed with how things are going right now, but really she was kind of annoyed. Richie did whatever she commanded, which was perfect, just what she needed in a familiar, but… Well the problem was twofold. First off, Dakota let him wander around, through the layers of magic that made up the region, with ease. As if he was just walking through parting curtains. Meanwhile she had to struggle for every inch the state would give her, putting more and more power in to move around, to hold off the clash of ethereal jaws she could feel building.

Secondly, the child was a mess. It was bad enough that he’d slipped back into her lair covered in blood and back alley grime, reeking of death, but she couldn’t even wash him. To do so would risk clearing away the smoke that had settled into his fur, that even now filled the lair, and she would have to be mad to risk losing that control, even for an instant. The wool collar on his throat, the sheepskin he laid on, were enough to keep him in his shape, but for now that smoke was all that kept him in line.

Not for long though. With his help, soon everything would be ready. She would have a Source and then she could forgo the wool, forgo the licorice root, and keep him through power alone.

As soon as the veil opened…

~~

~~

He’s smart, and good, and now that he’s finally full his master has a job for him.

(something in his gut is screaming, it whines and hides when he smells her, sees her, hears her, says it isn’t right, she’s not right, but the call is true…)

It’s a big job too, very important. She wants peacocks, as many as he can find, and because the city is his he knows just where to look.

Seemingly out of nowhere he lopes into the center of the Dakota City Zoo, air crisp in his lungs and screams ringing out like the deep gong of church bells. The humans scatter around him, reeking of shock and fear, briefly flicking on his instinct to chase and play. Joyfully he twists, turns, leaps, nipping at heels and sending the guests scurrying with barking laughter. In their displays the animals bellow and shriek in time with the humans.

But eventually fun times have to end, there’s work to be done for his master, and so he shakes his head to clear it of ‘prey’ and ‘play’. Work. He’s here for work. Because he’s good.

Raising up on his hind legs, stretching out as far as he can, allows him to make a quick survey of the area. The humans make it difficult to see, but he doesn’t know the scent he’s looking for and he can just make out a few patches of blue among the greys and yellows that don’t look like clothes, that are moving on their own. With a heading in mind, he gives a howl that makes his heart pang (why call when his pack’s not there to hunt with him?) and drops back to the ground. Long legs make the journey quick, and the humans that come with guns drop them when he snaps at their arms, it’s easy easy easy to find the flock.

He runs forward and they scatter, but these aren’t humans, they don’t have long legs to take them far and can’t gain speed by dropping their tails. The tails that are so easy to grab with hand and tooth, to yank them out of the air so he can snap jaws around their long long necks and shake. The humans aren’t bothering him anymore, in the distance he can hear them fleeing en masse, working to get themselves and each other far far away. Not that he cares. He’s focused on the job, the fun fun job, and the pile of birds forming on the ground as he chases and grabs, snaps and shakes. A mass of blue and grey that only stops growing when he knows his mouth won’t hold any more.

With a carefree air he gathers up the bodies in his jaws, carrying them by their broken necks, and lopes, tail wagging, back the way he came.

His master, good (wrong) master, will be so proud.

~~

~~

When the reports of dead animals started coming in the police and animal control really hadn’t expected a handful of superheroes to show up to investigate, but given what had been going on lately there’d been no chance of them ignoring the cases. After all, it could have been the ‘normal’ tendency for sickos to start slaughtering black animals around Halloween, or it could have been tied into the actual witchcraft going on in the city. The fact it was happening the very day Richie had vanished from his bed only made the whole thing more suspicious.

What nobody had expected was to find all the animals eaten.

It was a gruesome sight, dogs, cats, a few birds all ripped to shreds. Soft, fleshy bits were all gone, as were a few of their heads, bodies held together with bits of remaining ligament and gristle. Bones gnawed, some cracked open to get at their marrow. The group hardly help it together until they’d seen all the damage, barely made it out of the room the corpses had been placed in before several of them where fighting over the nearest trashcan.

In a way, that made the call that there was a monster attacking the zoo a relief, even if the creature was gone by the time they arrived. As it was, the ladies hardly touched ground before an important looking zoo employee was running for them, his eyes wide and shoulders still trembling.

“Wonder Woman,” he called, because with her there the rest of them were chopped liver, “thank god you’re here!” A perfect professional- at least in the eyes of the younger set- she calmly placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.

“What happened here?” she asked in a gentle tone that soothed some of the frantic panic from the man’s face. “Is anyone hurt?” He shook his head.

“All the guests and workers are fine, shaken but no injuries. We’ve lost all but two of our peacocks though to that, that-” Ultraviolet stepped down off Static’s saucer, the electrokinetic hero following behind.

“Maybe you should sit down,” she said, “and then explain.” Nodding, he lead the group to the nearest bench and all but collapsed upon it, taking deep breaths to try to settle the shake in his limbs.

“Nobody is really sure where it came from,” he said, “just that it, appeared around the Asian Trail. Chased the guests around, snapped at people, then it just, killed our peacocks and disappeared.” The heroes looked at each other with eyes full of concern and fear.

“Are there any bodies we should take a look at?”

“No, just feathers left.”

Oh, thank fuck. Hurricane and Ultraviolet settled into the spots on either side of the man as Static stepped forward.

“What did it look like?” he asked.

“It was-” the man hesitated, beginning again to tremble, “it was just…” Another deep, steadying sigh. “There’s security footage.”

~~

It wasn’t a wolf. It looked like a wolf, kinda. Sorta. Maybe. If you’d never seen a wolf before. Or a dog. The colors were right and there was fur, how about that?

In reality, the creature trotting around in the footage looked more like someone had taken the important bits of a wolf- the eyes, ears, mouth, tail, fur- and stretched them out over a human form. Then they had clearly just, kept stretching from there. It’s back was so long to match up with the almost human limbs, limbs that kept it’s shoulders nearly level with those of the grown men it snapped and barked at. The lips were loose, constantly showing flashes of long, sharp teeth. They could easily make out the flat palms and soles of human hands and feet, stretched long and raised off the ground in favor of clawed fingers and toes too too long and flexible for anyone’s comfort.

There was no way, even in Dakota: Land of the Bang Babies and Weird-Ass Animals, that that was anything but

“There is a fucking werewolf in Dakota.”

Wonder Woman sighed, shutting her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest. Dakota’s finest, meanwhile, chewed their lips and exchanged concerned looks. Nobody there was stupid, hell all of them were brilliant, and, well. Bit of a coincidence, a werewolf showing up in Dakota with a witch running around… Static was first to speak.

“Thirty bucks it’s Richie.” Hurricane shook her head.

“Sucker’s bet.”

“What,” Gravitas suddenly spun to face Wonder Woman, shoulders tense and eyes narrowed, “would she want to make him a werewolf for?”

“Cheaper feeding?” Static said on autopilot, immediately shying away from the girls’ glares. “Sorry.” Now it was Wonder Woman’s time to worry her lower lip, looking over the team.

“She probably needed a familiar.”

“For…?” There was, in that moment, the very real chance of a small riot breaking out in that room, and a higher one of Gravitas punching the first person to not give her answers. This was one of her brothers they were talking about. Wonder Woman was smart enough not to risk it.

“The last I saw Athame she was using her familiar as a conduit to use more powerful magic,” she said. “I have to assume a werewolf is the best conduit she can get her hands on right now.” This didn’t help the mood of anyone in the room.

“So,” Hurricane said, “she’s probably going to use him for that ritual then? Would it hurt him?” All eyes stayed on Wonder Woman, who sighed again.

“He’s young, fit, and a werewolf. In theory he should be able to handle most anything that gets thrown at him, but I don’t know exactly what the limits on them are.”

“And if he can’t?” The room went quiet. Muscles tensed all around, even worse than they already had been. Static stepped forward, footfalls heavy and purposeful, sparks arcing between his fingers.

“Wonder Woman, what happens if Richie can’t handle the ritual?” She stayed quiet for a moment more, eyes downcast, visibly struggling for words, before she sighed and sadly met the hero’s gaze.

“Sizzle.”

~~

“Okay, ‘repenting for your sins’ apparently works.”

“Maybe if you’re in human shape, but I don’t think a giant wolf-monster can repent for much.”

“‘Piercing the wolf’s hands with nails’, yeah that’s not happening.”

“No nails, no silver, no beating him upside the head with a pipe.”

“I was just repeating what the book said.” With a grunt Ultraviolet went limp in her seat, staring down at the book in her hands. The library had been raided, the internet was being raided, in their desperate bid to find something, anything, that could bring Richie back to normal. That they could use to save him.

“Swimming across a river in the full moon’s light?” Gravitas suggested, only for Wonder Woman to shake her head.

“I’m not willing to count on us having the two weeks to spare.”

“Agreed.”

“Oh here’s a fun one,” Hurricane said, scoffing, “‘not turning into a wolf’.”

“Handy,” Static commented, “wish we’d known that was all it took before.”

“‘Getting a god to remove the curse’?” Everyone looked at Wonder Woman hopefully, but she shook her head.

“Demi-god. It’s not the same.”

“Damnit.” Everyone groaned as one. Why was everything so… this? Nobody deserved this sort’ve stress.

“So, so far,” Static said, “our options are looking like poison, silver, blunt force trauma, and death. Joy.”

“I really don’t know what to do,” Wonder Woman admitted, staring down at the book in her hands. “Either we kill him, or do something that might kill him, or risk him dying at the hands of Athame.”

No one looked at each other, eyes only on pages and screens. It didn’t look good. It really didn’t look good. They wanted him alive damnit! Alive and unharmed other than maybe a stomach ache which really the way he ate even when he wasn’t a monster he probably deserved anyway!

What the fuck where they supposed to do if they couldn’t save him…?

“Guys,” eyes flicked up, just enough to see Gravitas take a deep breath and release it, “I think this is one time when we should probably forewarn the parents.”

~~

Mr. Foley wasn’t home, not that anyone but Wonder Woman could bring themselves to care. If anything it meant this discussion was going to be easier. Nobody could guess what his response to ‘your son is a werewolf and may not come out of this alive’ would be, and they kind of hoped they never had to learn. Better to just get his mother on her own.

Unfortunately, there was no saving themselves from the look on her face when a group of somber superheroes showed up on her porch.

“Your son is alive,” Wonder Woman clarified before anything else, watching Mrs. Foley heave a massive sigh of relief, “but we have to talk.”

“Of course, come in,” she said, nodding and moving aside. The door was shut behind them. “Have a seat, please, I’ll get you something to drink. Soda, coffee, tea?”

“We’re fine, Mrs. Foley,” Gravitas said, only for the other woman to shake her head.

“Please, I need the distraction right now.” The heroes exchanged glances, knowing full well they weren’t going to argue.

“Tea would be nice.”

“Coming right up.”

Nobody spoke while she worked. She said nothing and there was a silent agreement among the heroes that she should be sat down when she heard the news. For her own sake. So, the house stayed too too quiet, broken only by the whistle of a kettle and the series of quiet ‘thank you’s that came along with getting their individual mugs.

“Alright,” breathing deep, Mrs. Foley settled into a seat and squared her shoulders, “what’s going on? Superheroes don’t show up at your door unless they have to.” As one Dakota’s heroes turned to Wonder Woman. She was oldest, most experienced, and the only one there that didn’t already know the woman, and as such was the unofficial spokesperson of the moment.

“We’re only mostly certain-” Static, Hurricane, and Gravitas all gave her pointed looks. As if they were only ‘mostly’ certain of anything. “We know your son’s been kidnapped by a witch-” Mrs. Foley made a pained noise. “-and we’re mostly certain he is, at the moment, a werewolf.”

Groaning, the redhead let her head fall back against the couch and muttered something under her breath with what was almost a growl.

“Mrs-”

“Maggie, please.”

“Maggie, could you repeat that please?” She looked at Wonder Woman, then around at the others, before straightening with a sigh.

“The witch…” she groan-growled again, “I knew something like this was going to happen, I said we should send him out to Gina’s, but no, Sean had to be a stubborn-” Catching herself, she took a steadying breath. “The werewolf thing is normal. He shouldn’t be turning for at least another few months, but once you get witches involved everything can go to hell in a heartbeat…”

The room went silent. Wind didn’t blow outside. Jaws were slack, eyes were wide. Static gaped like a fish for twelve seconds before he finally found his voice.

“You’re all werewolves?” Maggie shook her head.

“Sean and I aren’t, but it runs in both sides of the family. Richie’s shown signs for ages.”

“Does he know about this?!” Because there were family secrets and then there were things you told your best friend of forever- though this would explain that crush on the Wolfman in middle school, and his refusal to watch Sleepwalkers ever. Maggie gave an empty chuckle.

“I love my son, but we were hoping to hold off on telling him until any random passerby couldn’t get his full pedigree out of him with a double cheeseburger.”

Okay, yeah, that was fair.

“Since you seem to be the one in the know,” Wonder Woman said, leaning forward, “maybe you could help us turn him back? We couldn’t find any methods we had time for that wouldn’t put him in danger.”

“Of course,” Maggie said with a nod, standing, “give me a minute and I’ll get you the recipe for my mother’s wolfsbane brew.”

“Wolfsbane…”

“It’s a family trick, for when the kids get too caught up in being the wolf.” Slipping back into the kitchen, she raised her voice to ensure she was heard as she went through an assortment of drawers. “I don’t have any of the ingredients, since we were counting on having a few more months at least and being able to send him back west, but a good scrub down with sapphire should get him back to normal. Ah.” Her waving hand, a yellowed piece of paper clutched in it, appeared around the corner before she did. “Just make sure to check him over for any wool first. A witch only grabs a wolf for a familiar or for parts and either way they need to secure them in wool. Could be anything from a collar to a piece of string, but as long as it’s there he won’t turn back.” Every other body in the room nodded as she handed the paper off to Gravitas, who raised her hand slightly.

“You wouldn’t happen to be able to tell us anything about magic, would you? Such as, I don’t know, what to look for if this witch is going to be doing a ritual?” Maggie looked at her, eyebrow raised, and nodded.

“If they’re going to perform a ritual any time soon it’ll probably be sometime tomorrow. Thematics are very important in magic, and Halloween is a very thematic day. It’d be better if there was a full moon, but a new one is nearly as good.” Gravitas nodded even while Hurricane narrowed her eyes curiously.

“How do you know this stuff?” she asked, and Maggie smiled.

“Witches run in the family too.”

“…of course.”

~~

“Frieda.” Hurricane froze on her way out the door, shiver running up her spine at the use of her real name in costume. When she turned, Maggie was stood behind her, a soft smile on, holding out a glasses case. “He’s going to need these once he’s turned back.” Slowly, reminding herself to breathe, she took the case.

“Thank you, Mrs. Foley.” The smile widened.

“Thank you. Just, you kids try to be safe, please?” It took a lot of effort not to hug her, to just nod and smile back.

“We’ll try.”

~~

“I’m sorry, why am I the one in charge of boiling water of all things?”

“Because you have fucking lasers, if anyone is going to be able to get and keep 80 gallons of water boiling without it taking a year it’ll be you.” Scowling, Ultraviolet huffed and glowered at the cast iron tub Gravitas and Static had found in the junkyard. It was rusty, but she could laser that off as easy as she could boil fucking water.

“Richie owes me a pizza after this is done.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

~~

“The good news is,” Wonder Woman said upon she and Gravitas’s return to base, “we have all the wolfsbane we could ever need. The bad news is I’m going to have to explain to Batman why I bought five pounds of poison on the League’s dime.”

“I'm amazed I didn’t just start screaming,” Gravitas grumbled, dropping a large box one had to assume contained said wolfsbane next to the tub. “A pair of superheroes show up talking about needing wolfsbane for an emergency and you not only charge them, but I swear that man upped the price, there is no way this shit costs that much.”

“Just be glad the League is footing the bill.” Wonder Woman nudged the box with her foot. “Still I think I’ll have Superman go talk to him about taking advantage of those in need. He may die of shame right there.” Ultraviolet chuffed, tearing open the box and beginning the process of dumping dried leaves into the boiling water.

“Fingers crossed.”

~~

Static turned the hunk of stone over in his hand, eyeing it carefully. Mrs. Foley had ended up giving them the address of one of the nearer packs in hopes they would have the stones they needed and it certainly seemed so.

“Ya know,” he said, “I never thought sapphire could look like…”

“Just a big blue rock?” Hurricane smiled and shrugged, holding up the small bag of the gems they’d been given so he could return his own to it. Once he had she tied it shut, tucking it away in the deerskin cloak they’d also been loaned. “They said they were rough stones. Guess they’re only as polished as they are through use.”

“Or because it’d really hurt to get scrubbed down with a pointy rock.” She chuckled.

“Or that, yeah.”

~~

It was late afternoon before the group was all together again, the sky just beginning to go dark, costumed children starting to gather on the sidewalks of Dakota.

“Alright,” Gravitas asked, stood at the head of the room, “everything set? Wolfsbane brew?”

“Ready and waiting,” Ultraviolet replied. “It’s getting cold, but I think he’ll live.”

“Great. Sapphires?”

“Enough for everyone,” Static said as Hurricane dumped the bag out beside the tub, “we can tag team him.”

“Now all we need to do is find them.” Scanning the room Wonder Woman put out her hands compellingly. “Any ideas?”

“We asked the pack Mrs. Foley sent us to,” Hurricane said, “and they said if they were just appearing places then they were probably in a different ‘layer’ of the city? And gave us this.” She held up the deerskin cloak. “Apparently it’ll let us move between the layers ourselves.”

“Our idea was that we could put it on BackPack,” Static added, the robot perking up from his rather despondent spot in a corner at the sound of his name. “He can find them, put a tracker down, then come back. Then we go in.”

“That,” Wonder Woman said, “is a better plan than half of Batman’s. Good work.”

~~

~~

He’s lonely. He wasn’t lonely before, when he’d first followed the call to his master, then he’d just been hungry. After, he’d been enthusiastic. But it’s been over a day, his belly is full again of dogs and cats and one man who ran at the wrong time, and as he lays curled tight on the single sheepskin his master has given him all he can do is watch her paint patterns on the floor in peacock blood and feel so so lonely.

He misses his pack.

His dam. His sisters. Brother. His sire he can do without, but the rest of them he feels the lack of deep in his chest. He can’t hear them call, can’t smell them through the smoke, on the whirling breeze. He whines and the sound makes his master snap at him, which in turn makes the thing in his gut scream and snap back. Lonely and cold(wrong) and yearning(she’s wrong).

His pup had come. Slipped inside with fur of his own, hidden in the shadows, long enough to be nuzzled and cleaned before vanishing again. It hadn’t helped anything, only made the ache worse. His pup he misses most, and he had come and then just left him alone again…

“Richie, come here.” The command is welcome, a distraction from the loneliness and the too-small sheepskin. His tongue lolls from his mouth as he stands, stretches, plods to her side. She shoves it back in and holds his jaw closed as she begins to paint him in the same blood as the floor. It’s been mixed with something, he knows, but he isn’t certain what. Something that feels gritty against his nose. The blood-paint goes in patterns over his face, his neck, his legs, his body, and he behaves, he’s good, as it’s applied. He is good, he is compliant as she leads him by the collar to a spot among the floor patterns. As he watches, she crosses them to take the spot opposite his own, the dried husk of something (a leech, something in his head tells him, a massive leech) sitting in a marked spot between them.

She begins to speak a language he can’t understand and something strange starts to seep into his bones, the patterns going hot along his form as

A bolt of lightning flashes past his master’s shoulder

And Richie stops being good

He knows in his soul what that means, and even though he can’t smell them through the licorice he can’t help but jump to his feet, twisting in midair to face his pack, tail wagging so fast it’s but a blur behind him.

“Oh for the love of,” his master says behind him, “heroes just can’t leave well enough alone.” His brother is stepping forward to meet him, sisters behind him, when he suddenly collapses, gasping for a breath that only comes when a slam sounds back in the lair. Richie whines deep in his throat, turning to see his master dragging herself back to the ground, gaze darting between her and his pack. She’s clearly angered.

“Richie, attack.” He doesn’t want to, of course he doesn’t want to this is his pack and the something in his gut is screaming louder, fighting and howling, but the command sinks into him and despite his own wishes he turns and lunges teeth first at the nearest target. It’s a relief and a horror when instead of his brother’s face his jaws lock around something hard and metallic and burning- searing his lips and tongue as the person attached to it flings him aside. The pain doesn’t stop his body from following orders though, it rises on its own, flings itself forward again.

“Don’t, you’ll hurt him!” The woman he hadn’t noticed through the smoke and excitement of pack has raised her arms again in preparation for his attack, only to be shoved aside by his brother. A whine tears from his throat as his teeth dig into the blue cloth over his arm, as he bowls him over. He doesn’t want to, he doesn’t want to, and Virgil is straining to hold his mouth open enough with one hand, struggling not to lose the arm entirely to his teeth.

“It’s okay, man,” he soothes, kicking at his limbs as he tries to claw at him, “it’s gonna be alright, I promise, it’s okay-” Distantly, he can hear struggling behind them, deeper in the lair. Feel magic flying, see and feel the light and wind off his sisters. His pup reappears, sans fur, whirring and chirping as he helps to pry him off his brother. It’s difficult, even with him fighting his hardest to stop, but eventually Virgil’s able to roll away and a shout brings one of his sister’s gusts of wind under and around him, holding him safely in the air where he can snap and swipe and whine without injuring anybody.

It’s from here he can see the fight with his master end. Not with a bang, or a flash of magic, but with merely a quick turn directly into one of his sisters’ fists. His body doesn’t stop struggling, doesn’t stop fighting, even as he whines in pain and distress, even as his pack tries to soothe him from below. Eventually the woman from before, with the silver gauntlets, simply pulls out a long rope and begins the arduous process of binding his mouth shut, tying his limbs to his body, actions that only make his whining louder, his struggling harder. Even being lowered into the reach of their hands doesn’t help, nor the removal of his collar, or the placing of his pup on his back.

He whines and struggles all the way back out of the lair.

~~

~~

Turns out getting Richie into the goddamn tub is the worst part of the whole affair. You’d think it would be easy to just drop the bound and gagged werewolf into the water, but no, apparently he was a cat in a past life. Somehow, against all odds, his struggling had gotten worse as soon as he’d seen the water and he’d begun thrashing so much they struggled to line him up with the tub in the first place. They’d ended up having to wrestle him in and then have Gravitas use her powers to make him all but unable to move at all.

Still, it meant they could move on to phase two, and all five heroes grabbed a chuck of rough sapphire, picked a region of wolf, and got to scrubbing him down. And, despite all odds, it seemed to work. With each scrub more and more fur fell away, and with it went the monstrous shape of him. A patch there and he had a shorter muzzle. One here gained him a more humanlike arm. Between Gravitas and Wonder Woman his tail may as well have come off in one big clump. They scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed, tub filling with grey and brown fur, until their arms were sore and finally the rope binding him fell away from the smaller, bare form.

“Richie? How are you feeling?” His breathing was ragged, exhausted from fighting and transforming. He moved his head only enough to verify that Static, Ultraviolet, and Hurricane were right there before lifting himself up enough to lay his forehead against Static’s shoulder.

“I really need some cocoa,” he said, spitting out some blood from the since healed silver wounds, “and a fucking salad.” A small laugh came out of Gravitas, tired but relieved, and proved to be contagious, growing louder as the rest of the team caught it and crowded in close, clapping hands on shoulders, in his hair, even Backpack nearly climbing into the tub, as if to prove to themselves he was there and safe.

“Figures it’d take turning into a man-eating monster to get you anywhere near one.”

~~

Once it was clear Richie was going to be okay, suffering nothing more than some trauma that he insisted still wasn’t as bad as the Brainiac Incident, Wonder Woman was forced to leave. After all somebody had to head back in and get Athame- if Dakota had left anything of her- make sure she met justice, return all the magic items they’d borrowed, and she felt confident the others could manage things like getting him home alright and finding him something to wear on the way.

(“Of course your mom would think to hand us your glasses, but not a pair of pants.”)

So, the heroes of Dakota found themselves spending the late evening in a massive cuddlepile in the Foley living room, laden with cocoa and testing the weight limits of the couch.

“I just hope I can talk mom out of shipping me off to Cousin Gina’s,” Richie said, by now ignoring the way BackPack had latched onto the back of the couch and refused to stop rubbing against his head affectionately, “don’t wanna leave you guys down one again if I can help it, even if it is just once a month.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Frieda said, strewn across Richie’s legs with Daisy on top of her. “I mean, did anyone else see his face when we showed up?”

“May as well have been coming to get our dog out of the boarding kennel,” Sharon added. “You were like a puppy right up until you started trying to eat Virgil.”

“Which,” said other teen said before Richie could open his mouth, “you have never at any point been blamed for.”

“I’m sure we could keep you in line.” Daisy stretched out a kink and took a sip of her cocoa. “We just need to stay close and stock up on jerky.” Richie suddenly froze, Virgil and Sharon watching him warily from their positions directly at his sides, practically joining the other girls in his lap, as he narrowed his eyes at the half-eaten salad on the coffee table.

“I could be having jerky right now.”